


to grow close, to grow apart

by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon)



Series: call out my name (i'll come running) [2]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curryramyeon/pseuds/tinygumdrops
Summary: Seongwu tries to measure the distance between two people. Twenty-one kilometers seems like a good number to start.





	1. Prologue: the lonely road is a season

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sciences](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciences/gifts).



> a growing up fic for s's almost grown-up boys, divided into six parts. 
> 
> song choice: duet song by dresses  
> fic playlist can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/1yr2nhutbk4tuiq9frdzn8k87/playlist/0bUSjgB8j6AiRnLgt3q81b?si=1NHzfDk-TiKbBikG2eWuug).
> 
> hope you'll enjoy!

~O~

 

 

_“It’s simple, isn’t it? Seasons change. Don’t tell me your feelings won’t.”_

_“Maybe they would. But I don’t think they’d fade away.”_

 

 

~O~

 

0 km; 21 km remaining

 

…

 

 

It was an hour and a half-long journey. Seongwu slept for most of the ride, dreaming of white and cold. As he rubs off the crust in the corner of his eyes and looks around, he is reminded of how much time has passed. When he left a few months ago, spring was just about to take hold, the roads dusted with soft hues of pink and green. Now, the leaves are crisper and golden.

The third quarter of fall semester has just ended. This year, the students are given a rare four-day break. Seongwu, without thinking, bought a bus ticket to Chuncheon as soon as the announcement was made in class. He didn't bring much with him—it's kind of unnerving how light his backpack is, a clear sign that he's nowhere sure if he could even muster the courage to stay in town, if he fails.

The ticket crumples under his tightening fist. _This is it._

The walls of the exit of the bus terminal suddenly loom in front of him, and Seongwu stops walking to look at the skies. It's 7:15 in the morning. The _ajumma_ selling hotcakes yawns widely as she opens the cooler containing bottled water and sugary drinks. He stays rooted on his spot for another minute while the rest of the passengers are already moving toward their respective destinations.

Seongwu grits his teeth in chagrin. What is he doing, really? It's not like him being here, after a year of radio silence, would change anything.

 _Well, m'boy,_ a gravelly voice in his head says. _What is it that you want?_

His resolve almost melts. Almost.

He takes out his phone as he walks over to the nearby stall. He scrolls down to find the chat that's been buried by a dozen others, clicks it, and sends a text: _Can I come by to see you later?_

He's not expecting an immediate reply, but it comes as soon as Seongwu paid for the five bottles of water. _Later? When is later?_

Why is this guy awake? He usually sleeps in during the weekends. It was hard to wake him up even for rehearsals, Seongwu recalls.

 _Today,_ Seongwu sends. He then adds, _Late afternoon okay?_

_No problem._

Seongwu frowns as he puts the bottles inside his backpack. This kid is making it way too easy for him.

_I'm just a simple guy, Seongwu hyung._

Seongwu shakes his head. No. There's no turning back.

 _This is it._ It took him a long time, but he has arrived. Seongwu is now at the starting line.

He passes by the walls and delves into the streets.

 

 


	2. remember spring, and that one other time

~O~

 

2.8 km; 18.2 km remaining

 

…

 

 

This is going to be harder than he thought.

Seongwu follows the serpentine path towards the willow tree and lets out loud, arrhythmic wheezes when he reaches it, palm flat on the bark. He's not sweating so much, but his skin feels remarkably hot, a warning that this much exertion is going to catch up to him soon. It's kind of pathetic. He hasn't even walked that far yet.

If Jaehwan were here, he'd never let an opportunity to snipe at Seongwu's stamina go to waste, Seongwu's sure.   

He takes off his dark green windbreaker as he lands on the grass with a thud, folding it over his lap. He presses his back firmly against the tree trunk. He sighs and stares at where the long, thinning leaves overlap, at the small pockets where sunshine can pass through, and the thought of climbing up the branches to see the view—and failing—makes him smile a little. He thinks of the ghost of scrapes on his palms, of being painfully young, of having so much time on his hands that he had no idea what to do with it.

The breeze soothes his skin. He wills himself not to fall asleep.

This place reminds him of the playground Seongwu used to frequent back home. In the middle of the square is a billowing beech tree that stands tall and grand. As the centerpiece, the old tree served as Seongwu's lighthouse when he was a kid. Though he was especially bad at directions, he never lost his way.

It came to him at the time he was bicycling around Sakyan-namu, back when he was six years old. He was following the usual trail, but he stopped short when he saw that the vast acres of spruce and fir that used to mark the tiny path were gone, and what replaced them was hardening asphalt, the smell of melting rubber lingering in the air. In a few days, it would become a much safer route for Seongwu's elementary school. But then, Seongwu could only eye the newly flattened terrain in distress.

His small palms coated the handlebars with sweat. _Where was the way home again?_

It took him a while, but he sat up straight when he remembered. "Grandpa's tree!" Seongwu exclaimed. He searched the skies for a crown of copper leaves— _there!_ —and pressed hard on the pedals. He followed the unknown trail until there came the familiar sight of rotting, fallen logs and the metal signposts, slick and shiny from yesterday's rain.

He dropped his bike haphazardly on a patch of fresh grass. He wasn't the only one in the playground that day. There was already a boy around his age, slinging a rope around a branch of the copper beech tree.

"Hey!" Seongwu shouted. "What are you doing?"

The boy turned. He smiled wide in greeting; he looked like a chipmunk with his two front teeth protruded and his round, plump cheeks. "I'm making a swing!" he bellowed back.

Seongwu jogged towards him. "But we already have one over there." He pointed at the swing set a few yards away. "Well, it is a little rusty..."

"I want one that goes higher," the boy said. He took the rope again and swung; he missed the branch by a mile, making Seongwu snigger. The boy _tsk_ -ed and then said, "Hey. Lend me a hand, would you?"

Seongwu stopped laughing. "Why?"

The boy squinted at him, uncomprehending. "Why? So we could swing together, of course."

"Oh." Seongwu shrugged and took one end of the rope. He shouldn't have laughed; the thing weighed a ton. "Alright."

They ended up using the old swing set, having given up by the eighteenth attempt when the rope frayed so much at the edges. The metal hinges creaked loudly as they attempted to reach greater heights, throwing their weight forward as much as they could. The boy then offered to bring some motor oil from his dad's garage. "I'll try to find a stronger rope too!" he declared. "And a plank for the seat!"

Seongwu's shoulders protested, but he nodded anyway. He stretched his legs further out, increasing his speed. "I'm Seongwu, by the way!" he said to the boy with equal enthusiasm. "Ong Seongwu!"

"Ong?"

"Yeah, it's 'Ong'!" Seongwu told him, beaming with pride. He's the only one with that surname in his whole grade.

"I'm Kang Euigeon!"

"What?" Seongwu cried, craning his neck. "Eui—how do you say that again?"

The boy laughed hard. "Just call me Daniel!"

"Dan—huh? Isn't that an English name?"

"Yeah!"

"Why?"

"Because!" the boy exclaimed as he swung back. "I like the way it sounds!"

Seongwu liked the way it sounded too. "Okay!" he said. He tried it out, "Dan-iel? Da-niel? Hmm—niel? _Niel_! Okay, that's decided then!"

"When's your birthday?" Daniel asked.

"25th of August! My mom said I was born when the sun was really high up! How about you?"

"Me? There was no sun," Daniel replied. "I was born on December 10th, almost midnight!"

"What year?"

"1996!"

"Ahh, so I'm a year older!" Seongwu said in surprise. "That's cool!"

"Oh!" When Seongwu glanced back, Daniel was trying to get himself to stop swinging, his legs reaching out to touch the ground. He coughed as he roughly alighted. "Should I call you Seongwu hyung, then?"  

For some reason, Daniel's flushed face made Seongwu laugh. "Sounds good to me! But that doesn't mean we have to be all _aigoo, aigoo—_ " Seongwu made lots of ailing _ahjussi_ noises, " _—_ awkward or anything." He gripped the chains and stopped swinging. "Let's be friends!"

Daniel gave him a determined nod. His slow grin came with a promise. "That goes without saying, hyung!" he said brightly.

 

 

~O~

 

 

5.3 km; 15.7 km remaining

 

…

 

 

The fog appears when Seongwu approaches the sharp inclines leading to Uiam lake. It's thick enough that he almost can't see the reservoir up ahead, partially obscuring the mountains steeped with golden trees. It's not as cold as Seongwu knows Gangnam-dong can be at the tail-end of autumn, but the weather isn't as balmy as he wants either. He keeps half of his face covered by the high collar of his windbreaker, his lips dry and chapped.

NAVER Map tells him he has a long way to go, and he sighs, agreeing.

He wonders if his grandpa is in Yongsang-ri for the Harvest Moon festival this year. Until recently, Grandpa Im would trek thirty kilometers around a mountain to get to the outskirts of Jeol-gil, where Seongwu's family lives. Seongwu's earliest memory of Grandpa Im was him banging through the door of the Ong family house, letting in a blast of cold and alerting everyone and everything of his presence.

Grandpa Im has a way of carrying himself that's neither brash or haughty, yet commands attention whenever he's in the scene, and he brings up the mood of every person he's with. He's loud and excitable, but it comes off as endearing, and his toothless smile never fails to chase the chill away.

"Don't you think it's wonderful," Grandpa Im said, at the start of their many autumn mornings together. "If you could make someone's worries go away? Even if it's just for a moment?"

Seongwu _ooh_ -ed as he got hoisted on Grandpa's lap. "Isn't that some kind of superpower?" he gushed. "That's so really amazingly cool! _Really_!"

Grandpa Im scratched the back of his head and chuckled. "Well, m'boy... to be honest, I find myself left in the lurch more often than not. And that's a tippity-tippity-top secret between the two of us, of course." He winked, and Seongwu giggled. "But why, yes—perhaps that's what makes it a superpower." He tickled Seongwu's sides and armpits. "The power of being shameless!" he cried as little Seongwu shrieked with laughter.

Seongwu was seven years old when the thought first arose: _ah, I want to be like that!_

It comes to no one's surprise that Seongwu's best friend is the serious, soft-spoken boy across the street. Hwang Minhyun is not shy, _no, not at all_ —he always balks at the suggestion that he is so—but quite reserved in speech and manner. Before young Seongwu decided to take him under his wing, Minhyun was a perpetual frowner, and he hardly got to show his slightly mischievous, affectionate side outside of his family. Seongwu likes to think that his neighbor's face hasn't succumbed to premature aging thanks to his valiant efforts.

Minhyun has always been the sensible one, though, and he reigns on Seongwu whenever the latter gets way too ahead of himself. He also gets embarrassed enough for two people, which serves Seongwu just fine.

("Two guys in a _noraebang_ is rather unsightly, don't you think so?" Minhyun had said that one time Seongwu dragged him to the shopping district after school. "Let's just hang out somewhere else."

"It's either the newly opened cat cafe or this, Minhyun!" Seongwu replied, throwing the door open with his foot and shoving Minhyun inside. "You know how fucking cheap I am—I can't let that coupon go to waste!"

Minhyun made himself look small on the couch as Seongwu played with the console. "My throat feels sore since this morning. I'm not going to sing," he said firmly.

"Fine, be boring, then." Seongwu made a show of cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. "I'm going to blow the roof off of this place. Let's see. Who's the highest scorer... _The Screaming Willies_? Only eighty-nine points? Ha! I will defeat you!"

Minhyun clapped and cupped his mouth with his hands. "Seongwu oppa, you're so cool! Give it your all!"

"Oh, boo." Seongwu laughed. "I just bombed our language exam earlier and I'm the one who has to put on a show for you? I've got my work cut out for me, haven't I?"

Minhyun squinted at him. "You've always had little self-dignity, what are you even saying?" he said, and snorted when Seongwu punched him in the shoulder.

It took some time, but after Seongwu's loving rendition of _A Night To Remember_ , Minhyun was holding the second mike and singing vibrato to Seongwu's falsettos.) 

Seongwu and Minhyun complement each other, they were born in the same year, and Minhyun's home is nearby. The space between them isn't a hard gap to close, and Seongwu supposes that's why Minhyun is his best friend.

On the other hand, Daniel lives nine blocks away from the playground, a grand total of three and a half kilometers away from Seongwu's home. It's not that far, Seongwu's sister once said; she's way better at math and geography than Seongwu is, so he believed her. But, the first time Seongwu came to visit Daniel's place, the distance felt like miles away. It felt weird, too, to see Daniel all alone in a huge house. To be inside Daniel's room, which was twice as large and spacious as Seongwu's and his sister's rooms combined. They agreed to stick to hanging out in the playground, after that.

With Daniel, it's always easy. There was no skirting around the edges, no tentative pranks or jokes that fell flat. It's so easy to make Daniel grin and laugh that it's almost strange, like the boy had a sixth sense of whatever dumb thing Seongwu had in mind. Seongwu did not have to try so hard. There was no challenge.

Whenever Daniel had a smile on his face, Seongwu's not really sure if he was the one that put it there.

It's to be expected, Seongwu surmised. Daniel didn't need Seongwu the way Minhyun did. Three and a half kilometers wasn't that far, and back then, Seongwu didn't think it was all too important to close the distance.  

 

 

~O~

 

7.5 km; 13.5 km remaining

 

…

 

It's nine am. The sun is higher in the sky. The trail has slightly cleared, although remnants of the fog make Sinmyeong bridge look eerie still. Seongwu watches as his breath turns into a visible wisp and rises above him, and he takes a step.

He already anticipated it, yet somehow, he's still floored by how beautiful the Uiam lakeside can be every autumn. The wind blows every so often, like a muffled breath from the mountains, and the yellow and maple red leaves flutter along as Seongwu passes the bridge with his head high, mesmerized. The forest stretches like a mosaic; patches of the thick canopies are stained with the color of honeycomb, cinder, and balefire, making the evergreen pine trees easy to spot.

His mouth is dry by the time he's on the other side of the bridge. Fortunately, there's a bus stop a yard away, sheltered by a rocky awning. He sprawls on the seat, stretching his legs as wide as he can, and twists a bottled water open. He chugs everything down in under a minute.

"You worked hard, Seongwu-yah," Seongwu whispers. His voice sounds stale and muddled, drifting in the air without an anchor. His throat tightens.   

 _Maybe Daniel isn't too mad at me,_ Seongwu thinks, eyelids growing heavy. He laughs disdainfully a beat later, reminding himself of that particular snowy day in December, and the sight of Daniel's hoodie casting shadows over his eyes. Who is he kidding?  

Nevertheless, Seongwu can't help but hope and look forward to the end of the day, when he'll arrive at his destination. Perhaps it’s a trademark of boundless stupidity, how he can still be optimistic even when the ground is shaking underneath him, threatening to swallow him up. The thought makes Seongwu chuckle again, a little less wry, and a lot more amused. It seems like a year in university wasn't enough to snuff out that particular weakness of his. He hasn't changed that drastically, he supposes.

It makes Seongwu hope again that maybe, maybe Daniel hasn't changed his mind.

 

 

...

 

_Spring, March 2010_

…

 

When Seongwu saw Daniel in the hallways of Sanpo Middle School during his second year, it was like being struck by a baseball squarely on the chest.

"Seongwu hyung!" Daniel called. It was no mistake: he was wearing the exact same uniform Seongwu had on. He lugged his messenger bag to one side as he waved cheerily at Seongwu. "Hey, hyung!"

Seongwu tried to mirror his smile and waved back, hoping he wasn't projecting the sudden awkwardness he felt.

Minhyun nudged him. "You know him, the chubby tyke? Is he a transfer student?" he said. "I don't think I've seen him in elementary school with us."

"He's a year younger and from another school," Seongwu muttered. He started heading towards the stairs. "Come on. We're going to be late for first period."

"You don't want to say hi?" Minhyun said when they're a few flights up. "Figured he wanted to talk to you or something. Hey, wait _—_ Ong Seongwu, stop walking so fast!" He snickered. "Since when were you interested in history, anyway?"

Seongwu huffed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Jackass. I'll show you."

"He a friend of yours?"

They're entering their classroom when Seongwu answered, "Yeah. We met in the playground a few years back and we started hanging out since then." His assigned seat was by the window overlooking the soccer field and gym, and it's by some weird luck that Minhyun's seat was just right in front of his.

"Playground? You mean the one with the ginormous blood tree?"

"Yeah." When Seongwu looked up from his seat, Minhyun had a funny look on his face. "What?"

"You two meet often?"

Seongwu narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

Minhyun shrugged. "I didn't know you were in some sort of secret club."

"It's not a club!" Seongwu exclaimed, and several of their classmates turned to look at him. He swiftly ducked his head while Minhyun laughed again. "And we're not meeting in secret or _—_ whatever," he hissed.

"Right," Minhyun said, disbelief and amusement coating his voice in equal parts. "Well, he seems nice _—_ I'd like to meet him. Does he like singing? Maybe we can get him to join our club."

Seongwu took out his notebook and pens, looking for something to do with his hands. "I don't know," he mumbled. "He likes swings and gaming and skateboarding and climbing trees. I've never heard him sing."

"Oh well. We could always get Sungwoon sunbae to teach him. Or maybe Jonghyun would like a new dongsaeng to pamper. What d'you think?"

"I don't know. Do whatever you want."

"Oh man, are you pissed?" He laughed, waving his hand back and forth. "Look, Seongwu, you don't have to explain it to me. You have to admit it's kind of weird, though." He threw Seongwu a look that the latter couldn't interpret. "Well, maybe for you it's not."

Seongwu blanched. What was _that_ supposed to mean?

Minhyun grinned. "Your face is just too expressive for your own good, sometimes." He opened his mouth before shaking his head, clearing an unknown thought.

Seongwu glared at him, legs jiggling with unease.

"Hey, wait a sec!” Minhyun exclaimed, slapping Seongwu’s shoulder. “Jeez, you didn't even tell me his name! Rude, Seongwu hyung-nim!”

Seongwu blew him a raspberry. "It's Kang Euigeon."

"We— _what?_ "

Seongwu could feel his lips upturn slightly. "It's hard to say, isn't it?" It's nice to know he's not the only one who had trouble with it initially. "Just call him Daniel. He likes how it sounds."

"You would know," Minhyun remarked, and Seongwu kicked the peg of his chair. Their classmates turned to look at them again, intrigued as to why Minhyun was the one snickering hard at his desk while Seongwu hid his face behind his history notebook. It was probably an unusual sight to see.

 

 

...

 

 

Their paths converged by the rice fields of Ari, where Grandpa Im loved to take Seongwu and Minhyun to watch the herons and egrets fly by. Daniel's voice was drowned out by the thundering of a nearby tractor, and Seongwu had to run up to him and ask, "What did you say?"

"Do you want to play catch with me?" Daniel cried to his ear, so close all of a sudden. It made Seongwu hold his breath.

"Sure," Seongwu said with a laugh. "Why not?"

Daniel went home first to get baseball gloves and a ball. Meanwhile, Seongwu waited for him at the playground, nervous for some reason. The weather felt very warm.

When Daniel arrived, Seongwu discarded his blazer and scrunched his polo up to his elbows. "Are these new?" he said when Daniel threw him one of the pair.

"No, I guess," Daniel answered, bending down to fold his trousers up to his knees. "This was a gift to me a year ago."

Seongwu examined his glove and failed to find a single scratch on it. His cheeks went red.

Daniel grinned up at him. "Hey, come on, hyung!" he bellowed, five meters away. "Throw the ball already! Are you afraid or something?"

Seongwu huffed, blushing further. "Why you little—" He chucked the ball as hard and as fast as he could.

Daniel couldn't get it in time, but he laughed merrily anyway. He jogged to retrieve the ball. "You're such a jerk, hyung," he yelled, obviously not meaning it, throwing the ball back with a soft curve that Seongwu caught it easily.

They went back and forth like that for more than an hour, talking about their classes, the teachers they like, the teachers they dislike, the school grounds. Seongwu chuckled as he let Daniel grieve at the fact that they have homework already, and listened to the way Daniel talked about things, like he had a well-kept list of things he should talk about. Frowning, Seongwu carefully listened to the way Daniel was not mentioning other things as well.

"I'm sorry!" Seongwu blurted, in a moment of candor—or sheer idiocy.

The ball almost hit Daniel on the cheek in his surprise. "Huh? What?" Daniel yelled, scurrying after the ball. It rolled on a pool of rainwater, and he grimaced as he fished it out. "Ugh. Let's take a break, yeah? It's soaked."

They sat on the swing, and Seongwu apologized again.

Daniel peered at him. "For what, hyung?"

"I don't know," Seongwu admitted. "But I felt like I did something wrong, earlier. At school. I don't know. I felt like I just—had to say sorry, I guess." He felt dumber by the second.

Recognition lit Daniel's eye. "Oh." He then shrugged. "I didn't think of it badly, if that's what you were thinking." He shrugged. "It was nothing."

"I just wasn't expecting to see you there," Seongwu said. "You bastard, you never mentioned anything about going to my school."

"Kinda wanted to surprise you."

"It worked."

Daniel laughed quietly.

"So yeah," Seongwu said, rubbing his clean hand with his upper arm. His shoulders and back started to ache. "I'm sorry. For not... acknowledging you, I guess."

"Were you embarrassed?"

Daniel always went for the jugular, with Seongwu. "Yeah," Seongwu confessed.

"It's fine," Daniel said, alighting the swing. "I'm not bothered."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's just like how Jihoon and I were when we found out we were placed in the same class together." Daniel threw a pebble, and Seongwu stared after the disappearing shadow as he thought, _Jihoon?_ "For some reason, we were too shy to approach each other in the classroom when other people were there," Daniel continued. "It took us three days to finally talk to each other during homeroom."

"Who's Jihoon?"

"My mom and his mom are best friends, so we became best friends too."

"Oh. That's cool."

"He went to a different middle school in Wanju." He wrinkled his nose. "Mom thought it was too far. But it's fine. We can still play _Shadow of War_ together during the weekends when I come over to his house."

That made Seongwu smile. "Gamerhead~"

"Am not."

The sun was blinding that afternoon, even as it set, and Seongwu smiled again to himself as he sank a rock with the tip of his shoe. "You know Minhyun, right? My prissy neighbor? He wants you to join our club. We need lots of first years this year."

"The Performing Arts Club?"

Seongwu nodded. "If you don't want to, it's fine. Half the members would probably pick on you for a month, anyway."

"No! Of course I'll join!" Daniel said, dribbling the baseball and beaming to the ground under his feet. "I don't know how you do things, though, so you'll have to mentor me, Seongwu sunbae-nim." He looked up and aimed his smile at Seongwu. Laughed merrily, with so much ease in the world.

Everything was effortless and bright and fun to Daniel, Seongwu thought. It must be why, in consequence, Seongwu felt so light, like he could jump and float all the way to the skies.

Seongwu held back a sigh and said, "Thanks. I'm glad."

Daniel sat up, like a thought just occurred to him. "Hey, y'know what this means, right? I can go to school together with you and Minhyun-ssi!"

“Wow, is that something to be so happy about? You’re embarrassing, jeez, hoobae.” Seongwu chuckled. "You can walk home together with us too, dummy."

"Brilliant." Daniel grinned.

 

 

...

 

_Summer, June-July 2010_

 

                                                                               

...

 

 

It took Seongwu a long time to figure out that Daniel was really good at keeping secrets.

It wasn't that Daniel liked to keep secrets—it was probably that Daniel was just not used to telling anyone anything. It didn't bother Seongwu that much before, back when all they did was push each other on the swing or eat noodles together at the top ladder of the slide. But in middle school, they saw each other almost every day, and the abrupt jump in the amount of time they spend together had Seongwu thinking that maybe, he didn't know Daniel as well as he thought.

The first revelation happened when the Performing Arts Club were taking a break from practicing a scene from last year's play. All the girl members went out to buy ice cream—middle school girls _always_ moved in packs; Seongwu had never known a fact scarier than that in his life—and the boys were all scattered around the set. Seongwu was fooling around with the _gayageum_ he found in storage, making dolphin noises as he played, until he heard Minki say, in a very loud voice, "Wait, back up! What did you say?"

Then, he heard Daniel reply, "I'm going to meet some guys from the Street Club this weekend."

_Street Club?_

Everyone suddenly coalesced at the small stage where Minki and Daniel sat. Daniel stared up at everyone, looking very much like a cornered puppy.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Daniel said. His eyes weren't that big, but at that moment, they were round and wide in distress. "I didn't know we have practice—"

"No, never mind that," Minhyun interrupted. "But what you're saying—you're in the Street and Hip-hop Club too _?_ "

"Y-yeah."

Minki's eyes widened. "But isn't that... Street and Performing will be competing this upcoming festival. So you're going to be in both?"

Daniel scratched his head. "Yeah. But I'm not—like, I'm not going to tell your trade secrets or whatever," he said hastily. "The same way I'm not going to tell Street's either."

Sungwoon gaped. He was clutching his hair at the sides, making them stand up like two antennas. "Hey, Seongwu!" he said. "Did you know about this?"

"I didn't, I didn't!" Seongwu exclaimed. He elbowed Daniel. "The heck, Niel, why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it was important!" Daniel defended. "I just signed up to that club after the entrance ceremony."

"After the entrance ceremony? So it's the first club you signed up for?" Jonghyun asked.

"Well, yeah," Daniel said. "I like Performing. I just like b-boying more." He shrugged. "Some of the stuff you do is just too mellow for me."

"What?" Sungwoon thundered.

Jonghyun chuckled. "That's gotta leave a mark," he said.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Minki remarked, watching as Sungwoon chased Daniel around the set. "We haven't been getting as much members as we had in the past. We're lucky we even got one first year to sign up for this year. I'm telling 'ya, I'm telling 'ya. It's the ' _boom_ ' and ' _waaaahhhh_ ' factor we're missing."

"It all depends on how we'll fare this festival," Jonghyun said. "Either way, it's going to be a hard sell next year. We're going to need to take it up a notch." He shifted his weight to the side, narrowly avoiding Sungwoon jumping to flatten Daniel on a nearby gym mat.  "How did we even got Niel to join?"

Minhyun answered, "Seongwu asked him to."

Seongwu kicked Minhyun's leg until his best friend toppled over the stage matting. "You're the one who asked me to ask him!" he said as Minhyun rolled sideways and snickered. "Besides, who wouldn't want to be in the same club as me?" he added, pumping his chest out, and everyone else groaned in reply.

"Maybe we should do that," Sungwoon mused, ignoring Daniel's pleas underneath him. "Drag a couple of juniors to join."

Minki shook his head. "I don't think that's going to work. It'll be a massive pain if they end up flaking on rehearsals."

"At least Niel doesn't seem to mind," Jonghyun said with a smile.

"Right, right. But who taught this kid to be cheeky, anyway?" Minki said as he freed Daniel from Sungwoon's clutches, grabbing the younger boy by the armpits. "Was it you, Seongwu?"

Seongwu grinned. "He was already like that," he said quite proudly. "I didn't need to teach him anything."

"Still. We gotta get him out of your sphere of influence," Sungwoon remarked. "One stupid clown in the group is more than enough. Hey, Kang Daniel!" He turned to their youngest member. "What d'you say about becoming Ha Sungwoon's official disciple?"  

Daniel blinked at him, and the rest of the club members laughed uproariously.

"Definitely cheeky." Minki nodded to himself.

 

...

 

 

The second time Seongwu found out a secret, it bowled him over. For the most part, he wasn't a violent person, but that was the first time Seongwu felt like hitting something. It was also a revelation for him, that he was capable of feeling something like that.

It was a secret that Daniel never wanted him to know.  

That day, Seongwu was heading to the front of the school gym, where he, Minhyun and Daniel always meet up for the walk home. Minhyun had things to patch up with Sungwoon for the Harvest Moon Festival showing, so it would just be him and Daniel for that afternoon.

Groaning, Seongwu rolled his shoulders carefully. They had been aching since the day before; he truly overdid it with all the extra training he put on since the dates for the casting call were announced. He's keeping pace with club practices just fine, but he's not too confident with his audition piece. He probably wouldn't land any of the lead roles—those parts were usually reserved for the third years—but he needed to get Dalkbi, the Crow King's loyal assistant. The character held a good chunk of screen time, and he said a lot of important lines. But Dalkbi would be doing a lot of tap dancing and back-flips for a pivotal dance sequence, and Seongwu, at the moment, was horrible at them. So, he's meeting and practicing with Taehyun—the sunbae who made the choreography and played Dalkbi in the musical a year previous—every week.

He wasn't a naturally gifted dancer, he thought, but he loved it all the same, and especially liked the feeling of soreness he gets at the end of each session. There was something particularly rewarding in the ache that settled in his muscles for hours, sometimes for days or weeks, that Seongwu didn't mind putting in extra hours memorizing his parts and polishing his krumping form. His particular brand of diligence (or obstinacy, his mother always called it) caught on quickly in the club ever since he joined. It was late autumn of his first year when Sungwoon and Minki christened him as  "muscle cramp", because Seongwu always had them, and he was, they say, "persistent and annoying". It wasn't a terrible nickname by all means.

He wasn't the best dancer in the club yet, Seongwu knew, but he could be, and he's determined that he would be.

But first, he really needed to get a couple of those menthol patches he was too lazy to buy that morning. Daniel probably wouldn't mind if Seongwu asked them to make a quick detour to the convenience store. He'd probably even offer to pay for it. Seongwu snorted at the thought.

"Where is he?" he muttered to himself, searching. Daniel was late.

As he wandered around the gym perimeter, Seongwu reminded himself to buy ice pops for Daniel later. He hadn't been acting like a proper sunbae, too used to speaking to and treating Daniel the way he would when they're hanging out in the playground, alone together. He needed to be careful—he didn't want to give Sungwoon and Minhyun more ammunition for teasing.

"Hey, Fatty. We're all friends here, aren't we?"

That made Seongwu stop dead in his tracks.

There were three boys circling Daniel like vultures at the side of the gym, where the bicycle racks were. Daniel had his back towards Seongwu, and Seongwu watched the stillness of Daniel's shoulders. The younger boy had his hands inside his trouser's pockets.

"It's not much," a tall lanky boy said. He's a first year. They probably all were. "There's this new noodle restaurant in Jinae. Everyone was talking about it in lunch earlier. You heard, right? Right? It's not much at all."

He placed a heavy hand on Daniel's shoulder. "I'd ask you to come eat with us, but I had a feeling you're doing a lot of that already by yourself." His smile was wicked as the two other boys snickered behind him. "I don't think you need our help in that front."

"Go cry to your mothers," Daniel replied testily. "I don't have any money."

"Ahh, ahh! Telling us to piss off this early? You're no fun, _Dan-i-el_!" the second boy taunted. He shoved Daniel with enough force to back him up at the wooden posts, and Seongwu thought it's high time for him to intervene.

"Hey, Niel!" Seongwu called. His voice didn't crack; that's good. "Where have you been, you jerk? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

All the boys turned to his direction. Seongwu heard one of them mutter, "Shit, I know this clown. He's a second year. He's friends with a lot of third years." The tall boy made a resounding click of the tongue and gathered all his minions away by the edge of their collars, leaving Daniel there at the bike rack, the upper half of his face obscured by his hair.  

Seongwu jogged quickly to Daniel's side. He could feel blood rushing to his face, the tips of his fingers. "What was _that_?" Seongwu said, loud enough to drown out the frantic thumping of his heart against his chest.

"Nothing," Daniel said. He still wouldn't show his eyes.

"Nothing? That wasn't nothing!" Seongwu faltered, biting his lip. _Shit_. He's doing it all wrong. What would Jonghyun do? What would Minhyun do?

Seongwu took a deep breath. "Alright, whatever then," he said, sounding more spiteful than he intended. "Come on, let's go."

They head home quietly, with Daniel not saying a word about the ridiculously fast pace Seongwu set as they walked. Not like Seongwu could do anything about it—his feet felt like they had a mind of their own. All sensation had shifted to his hands and shoulders, to his tightening chest.

 _Shit_. He's shaking like a leaf. Meanwhile, Daniel seemed fine. _Shit, shit_. He's doing this wrong. He's bad at this.

Since when had this been going on? Was Seongwu always this unobservant?

Was Daniel never going to tell him anything about this?

What would Grandpa Im say?

"Kang Daniel," Seongwu muttered. "Do I mean anything to you?"

Daniel looked thrown off by the question, but he replied, "Yeah."

"Answer honestly."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do, Seongwu hyung."

"Okay." Seongwu swallowed. _That's what makes it a superpower. The power of being shameless—_ "Because you know, I care about you, Niel. And I don't—I don't like it, seeing stuff like that happen to you. Knowing that it happened when I wasn't there." He took bigger breaths so that his trembling wouldn't show. "And telling me that it was nothing? I think... I think I hate that most of all. You know?"

There was no response for a long time. Seongwu could only hear one, low scruff of a shoe on the dirt, and then two, and then—"It didn't seem cool," Daniel mumbled. "Running after you and the hyungs like a little girl." He had a hand over his eyes, like he was confessing something monumental. It probably was to him at the time.

Seongwu glanced at him. "Let's face it, Niel," he said with a dramatic sigh. "You're never going to be as cool as me. So why even bother?"

Daniel kicked dirt on Seongwu's dress shoes halfheartedly, and Seongwu chuckled. There was a ghost of a smile on Daniel's lips.

There was a sudden gust of wind, cooling the summer air around them. Almost instantly, Seongwu felt marginally better, and found it easier to collect his thoughts.

With Kang Daniel, it's supposed to be easy, right?

"Listen," Seongwu started again. "I like telling you things, you know? Sometimes, I feel like telling you stuff I don't feel like saying to Minhyun or my sister, so I do—"

"Hyung—"

"I won't mind if you tell me stuff," Seongwu said, rushing through it before he lost his nerve. "And I—I know I have a huge mouth, but I won't tell other people if you don't want me to."

Daniel kept his head low, but he nodded. "I won't tell people stuff you don't want me to, either," he whispered. "I don't have a sister, or a brother, and, well, Jihoon goes to a different school now, so..."

Seongwu closed his eyes for a second. _It's supposed to be easy._ "I'm your favorite hyung, right?"

That got Daniel raising his head. "Er, well—" He made a show of thinking about it, cheeky kid, and he chuckled when Seongwu started wrapping an arm around his neck. "Alright, alright. I'm kidding. I think you're the coolest hyung."

"Music to my ears," Seongwu sing-songed.

Daniel shook his head, his quivering lips pressed together. The tips of his ears were red.

 _Shameless, shameless,_ a voice chanted in Seongwu's head.

Seongwu eyed Daniel carefully again for a moment before smiling to himself. "Let's drop by at the convenience store again. I'm craving ramen today," he said loudly in an attempt to clear out the somber air. "Treat me to some ice pops, won't you? Since I got you out of that mess."

Daniel snorted, but his cheeks held a telltale red from holding back laughter. "Alright," he said. His expression then changed like he got an idea. He twisted his bag to one side. "Race you to the store!" he declared.

 _What?_ "You know I can't—" Seongwu gasped, but Daniel already bounded down the road. "Hey! No fair!" he shrieked.

"You're auditioning for Dalkbi, right? Doesn't he have a lot of singing and dancing scenes?" Daniel shouted back at him, grinning maniacally. "Let's get that suck-y stamina of yours up and going, hyung!" he said, before running off and putting two more feet of distance between them.

Seongwu let out a laugh, wanting to sound annoyed but failing entirely. Heaving, he then jogged to what seemed like his death.

In the end, Seongwu lost by an embarrassingly wide margin, and he ended up buying Daniel three ice pops of different flavors. He psyched himself up by saying that it went all accordingly to plan.    

 

 

~O~

 

 

10.8 km; 10.2 km remaining

 

…

 

 

“Hold the fuck up, you’re doing _what_?”

Cringing, Seongwu wriggles his pinky in his ear. Man, that was _loud_. “Eiiii, noona~” Seongwu purrs, even though he knows it’s useless to try anything. “Don’t be like that…”

“You’re not kidding?” Seol pauses. Seongwu can already imagine the incredulous expression on her face. “Holy shit, you’re not kidding!”

“I am not,” Seongwu replies solemnly. A wind blows from south, making Seongwu shiver violently. “And shit, it’s _freezing_ out here," he whines. "I think my snot is turning into icicles. Wait, let me send you a picture—”

“I’m not asking for any goddamn picture!”

“Suit yourself. It might cost ten million won someday, you know?”

“ _Ong Seongwu_!”

Seongwu sighs. “Alright, alright,” he says. “Let me have it, noona.”

As expected, Seol sets about it immediately. “This,” she proclaims. “Is the dumbest shit you’ve ever done.”

Seongwu can’t argue with that.

“And I’m including the time you tried to ‘charm’ your way out of remedials by doing that ridiculous thing you do with your ears.”

Seongwu protests, “The professor seemed to like it!”

Seol makes a derisive sound. “Not everyone is Kang Daniel, Seongwu.”

“Sheesh,” Seongwu grumbles, fist tightening around the strap of his backpack. He kicks a stray rock on the road. “Way to break it to me gently.”

Seol falls silent. "I'm sorry," she says after a while.

Seongwu grimaces. “Don’t,” he starts, and ends. He gazes skyward, lets his heart settle into a simper.

Seol continues, "But is this wholly necessary? Where'd you get this idea from? Don't tell me you saw that on _NHK_ or whatever and decided to try that out of nowhere—”

“I," Seongwu falters. “I need some time to think.” He sighs. “Figure shit out.”

"So this isn't for him," Seol says. “This is for yourself?”

"Of course!" Seongwu says with a laugh as empty as he felt. He has always been remarkably selfish; why will he stop now?

“I promise I will make it back to campus in one piece,” he adds to assures his sunbae. “I’m just going to be away for four days.”

“I’m not worried about _that_!” Seol says. “You can stay there back home for a week, whatever. I don’t care. I’ll even cover for you. But why are you _walking_?”

Seongwu laughs again. “Is it really weird for me to use my feet for anything that’s not dancing?” _Or running away?_

“Twenty-one kilometers? Are you _stupid_?” Seol lets out a disturbingly hysterical-sounding laugh. “Who am I kidding? Of course you are.”

“There she is,” Seongwu drawls. “The ever-supportive Kim Seol noona.”

“Where will you go once you get to Jeol-gil?”

“Where else?”

Seol goes quiet again. “You’re a dumbass but… I suppose you know him better than anyone. And he _knows_ you. He probably expected you pulling this kind of shit—”

“So vulgar~”

“Don’t waste it, Seongwu. Don’t waste _this_ ,” Seol says. “You were—a pipin’ hot mess this year, more than usual. You know? So, figure it the fuck out.”

Seongwu salutes his phone. “Roger,” he then says to the receiver. “I will figure it the fuck out.”

“Good luck. Tell Daniel I miss him.”

“Will do.”

“You should say that to him too.”

“Right.”

Seol sighs, and the line crackles. “I’m rooting for the both of you,” she whispers by means of a goodbye. The connection goes dead afterwards.

Seongwu holds his breath for as long as he can, before exhaling loudly. It’s now his favorite way to pass the time as he walked, watching his breath float away. If he were just as light, he might be getting to his destination faster.

He checks his phone. He has barely covered eleven kilometers, and it’s almost noon. Seongwu hates how slow he is, hates the distance between Jeol-gil and here, hates that, after all, this is all his doing.

Why did he ever leave again?

(A boy had asked him, a few years back, “ _Isn't that what you've always wanted?_ ”)

He puffs his cheeks and exhales once more.

Seongwu shoulders on, head down to look for any stray pebbles he can kick. He thinks of how long he’s been in love, and he wonders how long he’s going to keep on walking.

 

 

...

 

_Fall, November 2011_

 

 

...

 

 

They're sitting at the slide, backs pressed against each other. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions, but it's tradition, for Seongwu and Daniel, whenever one of them was having "a moment". For the time being, Seongwu wanted to keep what little dignity he had in front of his friend and hoobae, and Daniel was always willing to indulge.

Still. There really was no use hiding Seongwu's nerves from Daniel. "Your heart is beating too fast. I think you can break my spine with it," Daniel said with a laugh. "I can't believe you're freaking out about this."

"Shut it, you," Seongwu said. He then groaned. "It's my last huge play before I graduate. Of _course_ I'm freaking out. What if something bad happens?"

"It'll be fine," Daniel said consolingly. He seemed to be reassuring Seongwu a lot these days, and that fact was _not_ reassuring.

"What if Jonghyun accidentally stepped on the train of my costume during the sacrificial scene and I fall on my face?" Seongwu wondered. "What if... what if Eunbyul forgot her lines? We were supposed to practice more yesterday, but she had supplementary classes and... the change was just all so sudden and—shit, I forgot to check if the planks on the stage were installed correctly. I should have double-checked with Yoora noona. If something goes wrong with the pirate scene it'll be a fricking bloodbath—"

"Hyung."

"—and Minhyun will be all, ' _aaaaahhhh_ , _my leg!_ ', and it'll be for real!" Seongwu exclaimed. "Like, shit. I don't want to have Minhyun's leg cut off. You know? I mean, you _should_ know. That's just—"

"Hyung, Minhyun hyung won't end up becoming an amputee, are you for—?"

"I'm just saying!" Seongwu said, flapping his arms wildly. "What if something goes wrong? What if somebody dies?"

"What?" Daniel said in confusion. "Like, die in the play?"

"No—like, die for real!"

"Do you actually want somebody to die?"

" _No!_ "

"Then nobody's going to die, hyung."

"What if I'll be bad at it?" Seongwu blurted.

Daniel fell silent for a moment. He then turned, and the sudden shift made Seongwu yelp and fall flat on his back.

Daniel studied him, squinting. Seongwu squirmed, feeling his face turn hot at the intensity of the other boy's gaze. "W-what?" Seongwu said.

Daniel squinted even more. He looked different bathed under the tungsten lights. "You said you think you'll be bad at it. Bad at what?"

"You know what," Seongwu grumbled. "The Crow King had to do a lot of stuff. He had to dance—"

"But you're good at that," Daniel retorted. "You're almost as good as Taehyun sunbae and Jirae noona."

"And he had to do those weird, bendy stuff you see gymnasts do!"

"You could do that too."

"But it's not—" Seongwu paused and shook his head. "Besides, he had a lot of lines—"

"You know all of them by heart," Daniel said with a frown that's soft at the edges. "You never fail to randomly act out a scene whenever we're together. And you've been a member of Performing for three years now, and we always do _The Crow King_ every Harvest Moon."

Seongwu sat up. "Yeah," he mumbled. "So?"

"So?"

" _So_?"

Daniel smirked. "So?" He raised an eyebrow, a challenge.

Seongwu huffed, a smile rising unbidden. He tried to stamp it down as best as he could. "If this is your way of showing your support to your senior, Kang Daniel," he muttered. "I swear, you are not getting any ice pops and juice boxes from me for a long—"

"Hyung."

Seongwu glanced at him. Daniel had a slightly exasperated expression on his face, but there was a certain degree of fondness there that made Seongwu shut his mouth.

"You're the _Crow King_ ," Daniel said.

Seongwu blinked.

"Main role. Front and center,” Daniel clarified. “Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

“I—” Seongwu stopped. It never failed to make Seongwu speechless, all this talk about what he wanted, now that he was a third year in middle school. Was it weird that he did not know himself at fifteen? Was not knowing what you wanted this early on weird?

Maybe Daniel knew him better than he did, and Seongwu trusted him more than he trusted himself, sometimes. Not that he would ever admit it out loud; as the awesome hyung, he had appearances to keep.

Main role. Front and center. A room full of people, hanging onto his every word.

Was that what he wanted?

“Weren’t all the things you did for three years had been leading up to that?" Daniel pummeled through again. “You’re more than prepared, so.” He shrugged.

“That’s not the point,” Seongwu wailed. “And—” he pointed at Daniel, “You don’t get to be like that when you’re not going to stand on stage tomorrow.”

“That’s because I don’t want to compete with Performing when you’re the lead character.”

“Really?” Seongwu stopped to think about it. “That’s a good decision. You’d lose if you did.”

Daniel burst into laughter. “Are you sure you’re _really_ nervous?” he said. “Or did you just want me to tell you stuff?”

Seongwu pursed his lips, not wanting to confess that no, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“You’re not nervous, right?” Daniel shoulder-checked him. “See, you’re not!”

Seongwu hid his head in between his knees. “I am!” he argued, just for the sake of it.

“No, you’re not.” Daniel shoulder-checked him again, standing up from the slide. He offered Seongwu a hand and lifted the older boy with ease. Daniel had gotten ridiculously strong with all his working out and almost obsessive b-boying.

“I can’t believe this hyung,” Daniel muttered then, his tone helplessly amused. “Do you just like to call people out here at night to cheer you up when you don’t even need to? Seriously, what do you take me for?”

“An idiot,” Seongwu said, straightening up his jacket. “And what are you talking about? Who else do I even call up to meet in this rusty place?”

Daniel answers, “Yeah, I’m the only one.”

“See? Idiot,” Seongwu said smugly.

 

…

 

 

The show started and ended with not so much as a _bang_ , but more of a _whoosh._

In most instances, a _whoosh_ wouldn’t really describe the majority of Seongwu’s life—or at least, it didn’t subscribe to the way he liked to live his. A _bang_ was more like it; it got people thinking and feeling, made things indelible to the mind. Impressions stayed—softened by time perhaps, but never forgotten.

When Seongwu raised his head up after the bow, he was amazed at how much he could see on stage. He saw his mother and Grandpa Im, both of them waving at him, Grandpa with a frail arm around his mother’s trembling shoulders. He saw his sunbaes, every one of them in their high school uniforms. They screamed all at once that Seongwu couldn’t make out what they were saying.

His older sister was at the side of the makeshift staircase, taking photos. Coming home all the way from university, she looked tired but immensely pleased that she's there.

Daniel was in the middle of the crowd, pretty hard to miss. _Didn’t I tell you?_ he seemed to say, with his eyes and his lopsided smile. His cheeks were devastatingly pink.

Seongwu closed his eyes as all of a sudden the cast bowed again, his breath leaving him swiftly.

A _whoosh_ meant a gust of cold, autumn air, taking everything away. A fleeting moment.

That was the last play of Seongwu’s middle school career.

 

 

…

 

 

_Winter, February, 2012_

 

…

 

 

The modest bouquet being laid on his lap confused Seongwu as much as Daniel’s shy expression had, but then he’s reminded of how slightly different things would be from then on. With them lazing on the dilapidated merry-go-round as the sun set, it’s as if it was just the end of a regular school day.

“Hope you don’t think it’s lame,” Daniel said to his boots. “Everybody else was doing it.”

Seongwu patted him on the back, smirking. “Hey, hey. You worry too much, _uri hoobae_ ,” he crooned. “What ever will you do when I’m gone, huh?”

“Celebrate.”

Seongwu’s smirk grew. “You don’t mean that one bit.” He wagged the bouquet in front of Daniel.

Daniel placed a hand over his chin. “Well. Um, congratulations,” he said, voice muffled by his gloves.

Seongwu peered at him. “You don’t sound too happy,” he observed.

“I am!” Daniel insisted. “I just—I don’t know what to say.”

Seongwu couldn’t help but laugh. Seriously, this kid. “You don’t have to say anything! I just graduated middle school—it’s not like I’m leaving or anything. Besides, you’re going to graduate next year too.”

“Yeah.”

“You better watch out for yours. I won’t be handing out flowers.” Seongwu glanced at him again. “It’s going to be much more _embarrassing_.”

Daniel nodded wordlessly.

“Man~” Seongwu jostled him. The merry-go-round creaked at the sudden movement. “What’s with you?”

“I was just thinking,” Daniel muttered. “If I’d go to Hansaem High in a year. Would that be bad?”

Hansaem High would be Seongwu’s new school. Just a nondescript municipal school at the edge of Sinbuk-eup. Seongwu knew Daniel’s father had been pushing his son to go to Maekpo Academy, a private college-preparatory school in Chuncheon proper.

The question slipped out before Seongwu could stop it, “Why do you want to go?”

“It’s closer.”

“To where?”

“Home.”

“Oh.” Seongwu frowned. He couldn’t understand, somewhat. If home was an empty mansion on top of a lonely hill, Seongwu wouldn’t be that hesitant to leave for the city.

“Well, I have to say that’s a dumb idea.” Seongwu thought back on the report card he’d hastily shoved in his bag as soon as he received it, and grimaced. “If I were half as good as you in academics, I’d definitely want to go to _places._ ”

“Minhyun hyung said that too.”

“If you don’t want to listen to me, then listen to him. Minhyun always means well.” Seongwu let out a chuckle. “So annoying, that guy.”

“Is it bad for you?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it bad for you? Me going to your school?”

Seongwu sat up straighter. “You’re asking for my permission?” he said. “Really?”

“Well, you’re the one who’s going to be there first.”

“What for? Are you planning some kind of conquest? Trying to get girls in whatever school you go to to fall in love with you?”

Daniel’s lips quirked. “Maybe.”

“Ahh, well.” Seongwu held up his chin. “If your heart’s set on Hansaem, then you’re going to have to up your game since I’m there.”

“But Minhyun hyung and Jonghyun hyung would be there with you, right?”

“Are you implying something, Kang Daniel-ssi?”

Daniel’s laugh was as soft as the snow on the streets. “No, no,” he said, obviously lying.

“You’re really going to go?” Seongwu double-checked. When Daniel nodded, Seongwu laid an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll see you when I see you then,” he hummed, already grinning at the prospect.  

“I’ll see you,” Daniel echoed.

“Man, it’s cold, isn’t it?” Seongwu said after a minute of silence. “Listen. Take care of the juniors, yeah? I, Ong Seongwu, vice president of Performing Arts, am bestowing you this _great_ responsibility.”

“I am deeply honored.” Daniel bowed at him.

Seongwu stared after the tail lights of a car that went past. "You're not going to continue Performing in high school, are you?"

Daniel shook his head. "I actually only joined because of you."

Seongwu shouldn't really feel happy about that, but he couldn't find it in him to act like he felt guilty at all. So he didn't. "You should do whatever you want then," Seongwu said and then smiled cheekily. "You can't always stay as my shadow forever, no matter how incredible and manly I look like from behind."

Daniel laughed. "What are you saying? I have broader shoulders than you."

“I still haven’t hit my growth spurt yet, I feel,” Seongwu told him.

“I haven’t either!”

Seongwu went for a menacing grin. “You really want to compete with me?”

“Can we?” Daniel said. “We don’t want the same things.”

“That’s true.” Seongwu rubbed his neck, contemplating it. “You want fast. Strong. Hip-hop.” Daniel was already faster and stronger than Seongwu, in a lot of aspects. It wouldn’t take him long to get to whatever he wanted. Seongwu had nothing to worry about.

“And you want to be a comedian.” He sniggered at the face Seongwu threw him. “Kidding, kidding—you want to be a performer. Obviously.”

Seongwu closed his eyes and murmured, “Yeah. Right.”

Main role. Front and center. A room full of people, hanging onto his every word.

Seongwu’s eyes sprang open, and he saw Daniel watching him, head tilted to one side. The wind blew just then, sweeping Daniel's bangs away to reveal a set of warm, brown eyes, crinkling at the corners. Grinning at a joke Seongwu hadn't said yet.   

Smiles. Laughter. Applause.

 _It is,_ Seongwu decided then and there. Told himself that it's the thing he's been chasing for so long.

"It is what I want," Seongwu answered. "I won't want anything else." The way he said it made it sound like he was so sure of himself, absolutely certain of where the road will take him. But then, Daniel beamed and whooped, cheering, " _Ahh, so manly. As expected of Seongwu hyung_ ", and Seongwu could not bring himself to regret it. He could feel the greed rising up in him.

"I'll go even further with Performing," Seongwu challenged the darkening skies. "I'll do more of it, and I'll make it far.

"You hear that?" Seongwu screamed at the copper beech tree, the one his grandfather planted so long ago. Grandpa Im's tree. “I'll perform in high school, until college, until I drop _dead_!" He yelled even louder, so loud that the birds disperse, "I'll do more of it, and I'll make it far! _Aaaaahhhhh!_ "

Daniel chortled at his side. "What is wrong with this hyung?" he said in delight. He tugged on Seongwu’s coat until they’re lying together on the merry-go-round again.  

 

 

~O~

 

 

13.4 km; 7.6 km remaining

 

…

 

 

He’s all out of water.

Seongwu tries to make sense of what NAVER Map is telling him. There's a convenience store in about four hundred more meters. That's not so bad, is it?  

The sensible part of him says that he can't trust his ability to approximate distances, not anymore.

 

…

 

 

_Spring, March-April 2012_

 

…

 

 

The first few weeks were a blur.

Hansaem’s campus was indeed small, but not as tiny as Seongwu had expected. The student body was diverse with people coming in from villages all over Sinbuk-eup, and while there wasn’t a huge difference in language or lifestyle amongst them, the way students grouped themselves during homerooms was striking. The crowds were bigger and more intimidating, the teachers less friendly, and the math more incomprehensible. Seongwu found himself waddling through the mess that was his high school life.

He’s thankful for Minhyun and Jonghyun, who without a doubt had helped with the transition. He probably wouldn’t have made any sense of himself, if they weren’t there and constantly knocking some sense into him.

More lessons to study. More practices to do. More expectations to exceed.

Seongwu tried not to drown in them.

 

 

…

 

 

“Hyung, do you have time?”

Seongwu looked at the wall clock. He absolutely did not have time.

“Obviously,” Seongwu said to his phone as he closed his book on classical literature. “What? You thought I was studying?”

"Well, yeah—”

“What does my lovely junior need?”

Seongwu could hear the grimace on Daniel’s voice once he said, “I need your help. It’s about the club. Can you… can you come to my house? It’s pretty late, and it’s probably not safe for us to stay out long in the playground at this hour.”

“Be there in twenty minutes,” Seongwu responded as soon as the initial shock wore off.

“Make it thirty. Don’t trip or something, hyung.”

Seongwu called him a bunch of names before hanging up and digging up a hoodie from the laundry basket.

It had drizzled and rained for the past week, but that night, the weather was surprisingly cooperative. The air still felt cold, but after a few minutes of walking, Seongwu’s skin had warmed enough that he’d probably survive without both a jacket and a hoodie on. House lights littered in the distance, making the backstreets look less sinister.

Seongwu couldn’t recall a time Daniel had invited him home; the first and last instance, it was Seongwu who’d insisted to come. He was sure that they were touchy subjects: Daniel’s household and his parents. It manifested in the way Daniel rarely talked about either of them.

As he approached the front porch, Seongwu wondered when it would be okay to ask Daniel about them. He wanted it to be soon. He had been curious for the longest time.

Seongwu rang the doorbell to the huge house, and suddenly, his hands and legs felt jittery. He chalked it up to the sheer amount of walking he had to do. _Three and a half kilometers._ Unbelievable.

“This better be good,” Seongwu told Daniel as soon as the younger boy opened the door.

“It is,” Daniel said darkly as he led him to his room. "Thirty-two students signed up for Performing this year."

Seongwu paused at the doorway. “What?” he said, even though he heard Daniel clearly.

“Thirty-two students signed up fo—”

“ _Thirty-two_?”

“Yeah.”  

Seongwu plonked himself on the nearby beanbag. “That’s… a lot.”

“Yeah.”

He scratched his head. “I don’t know if I should be happy or not.” He gave Daniel a look. “Well, how are you holding up?”

Daniel scowled, legs splayed wide across the carpet. “I don’t know what I’m doing mostly,” he confessed. “There’s just… a _lot_. It’s overwhelming, really.”

Since Daniel remained to be the only one in his year who was in Performing, he became the _de facto_ president of the club. Seongwu knew it was unfair for him to be thrusted into such a position, but Daniel didn’t find the whole thing troubling, initially. “ _Without you guys, I’m technically the only one left who has the most experience_ ,” he had said with a shrug. “ _Might as well give it a go_.”

That was only a month ago, but to Seongwu, it felt like years.

Daniel was wearing a green, knitted pullover that used to be loose around the shoulders. It now looked like a formfitting sweatshirt. It made Seongwu stare. When did that happen?

“How many joined again?” Seongwu asked.

“Thirty-two.”

“No. I mean, how many were guys?”

“Guys?” Daniel’s eyebrows knitted together, remembering. “Uhh… there are eight guys on the list. Five of them are first years, I think.”

“Eight guys, huh.” Seongwu’s definitely getting to something. “So the rest of them… they’re all girls?”

“I think so.”

Seongwu bit back a laugh. “ _Ahh_ , I don’t think you’d have any trouble with managing them, at least,” he said. “They’d probably do anything you want if you ask them to.”

“What?” Daniel held his head up, surprised. “Really? How?”

Seongwu crawled over to Daniel’s space and gave his junior a light hand-chop to the head. “Figure it out, dumbass.” For such a bright guy, Daniel could be incredibly _dense_ sometimes.

Just as he thought. At this distance, Seongwu could definitely see that Daniel did not possess a terribly unappealing face and figure; in fact, it was the complete opposite.

Seongwu leaned on the junction between Daniel’s bed and the wall, feeling lightheaded. “Ahh, kids,” he crooned once more. “They grow up so fast.” Seriously, when had all of this happened?

“Hyung,” Daniel said, annoyed now. “I called to ask you for advice—”

“Okay, sure, want to hear my advice?” Seongwu said. “Just go get yourself a girlfriend. It’s going to be great for crowd control.”

“ _What?_ ”

Seongwu laughed louder. He probably went overboard with his teasing, for Daniel started chucking his pillows at the older boy in rapid succession. Seongwu retaliated, and it immediately blew over into a massive pillow fight.

This wasn’t how Seongwu pictured his Tuesday night would go. He had algebra and literature homework. He had singing lines to practice. He had very important stuff to do.

 _What’s happening?_ Seongwu thought when the match ended, as they lied on their backs and stared blankly at the ceiling. Seongwu took only a few steps forward, and suddenly, a lot had changed.

They heard a soft mewling sound coming from behind the door. Daniel visibly brightened and stood up straightaway to open it.

Seongwu blinked at the creature sauntering inside. “You have a cat?”

“Oh, yeah,” Daniel said. “This is Rooney. You know, the football player?” At Seongwu’s blank look, he continued, “I found her on the street one day.” He chuckled when Rooney started making space for herself on his lap. “I think she’s lonely, so I’m looking for a partner for her.”

“You gave it an English name,” Seongwu pointed out.

“Well, I like it!”

“Obviously.” Seongwu laughed. “You wouldn’t name your pet that if you didn’t like it.”

Daniel pouted; his expression made Seongwu’s skin prickle with—something, he didn’t know.  

 _What changed?_ Seongwu wondered again.

“It’s a lot quieter without you and the other seniors in the club,” Daniel said, playing with Rooney’s paws with his fingers. “The hoobaes are pretty chatty, but you know. Your noise was different.”

“Was it?” Seongwu said. “As first years, Minhyun and I are the ones getting picked on in our club.” He clucked his tongue. “We can’t make noise as much as we used to. But it’ll come around.”

Seongwu exhaled loudly afterwards. “Man, I kinda miss the clubroom! Ours in high school is _huge_ , but sometimes, especially when I get there first, it’s just—”

“Empty.”

Seongwu swallowed. “Yeah. But that’s to be expected. Right? I was the only one there, so…” He then laughed.

Daniel did not laugh with him. “You should come by sometime.”

“To the club?”

“Yes.”

Seongwu restrained himself from mentioning the fangirls and said instead, “Sure. When’s your graduation again?”

Daniel groaned. “That’s too far away.”

“Patience, young _padawan_ ,” Seongwu said, patting Daniel’s head like he would a dog’s. “It’ll come soon enough. And then you’ll be back to complaining why you’re stuck with me for the next two years.”

“I’ve never complained about that,” Daniel replied. He was smiling, but it was a sad one.

“I’m joking,” Seongwu said, voice faint. He felt strange, like he wanted to cry or something. His chest tightened.

Daniel inquired again, “So you won’t come?”

“I’m not sure,” Seongwu confessed. “It’s, well—high school. There’s a lot to do.”

“I understand.”

“Thanks. And sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, hyung. It’s just, you know? It’s kind of weird.”

“Weird,” Seongwu repeated, and the awful feeling was back. Words were stuck, heavy in his throat and making it ache. He felt like he was losing something.

“We haven’t been hanging out lately,” Seongwu managed. They texted and talked on the phone, but. “It’s been—a month?”

“Yeah.”

Like a broken record, Seongwu muttered, “Weird.”

“In school, at the park… I find it weird when you’re not there,” Daniel said, seeming like he had already made peace with this fact. Unlike Seongwu, who felt like he was teetering on the edge of something.

They had been inseparable for two years, were close friends for far longer. Sometimes, Seongwu sought out Daniel’s presence without even meaning to. Looking over his shoulder and waiting for a reaction—it happened so embarrassingly frequent that it was almost a habit. Like that time he got invited to perform for the school’s showcase in summer. And the time he got bumped up to understudy for a secondary character. It’s like the proverbial phantom limb. It was _more than_ weird.

Seongwu didn’t need Daniel to be there, he knew, but by his side, there was an unmistakable hole. It had been filled before, and now the emptiness made Seongwu feel all sorts of wrong.

He thought back to his last play in middle school, to the smiles, applauses and burning cheeks, and Seongwu hid his face in his arms.

"When you’re there, I feel like I can do anything," Seongwu said in a whisper. "It's kind of scary."

When he finally got the courage to look up, the expression on Daniel’s face made Seongwu think that maybe, Daniel understood what he meant. 


	3. in your company is a burst of color

~O~

 

 13.8 km; 7.2 km remaining

 

...

 

 

The road starts to narrow uphill. The numerous hairpin turns earlier made Seongwu dizzy, even though he’s going through a much slower pace than when he started. Now, it’s hard to ignore his labored breathing, so he stops when he reaches the top. He leans on a hazard signpost, hand on one knee as he steadies himself.

The air is cold, but Seongwu’s blood runs hot. He’s not sweating, but his feet drag and he has tripped way too many times in the last twenty minutes.

 _People do this for fun?_ Seongwu thinks incredulously through the fog in his brain. Why do they like to suffer through this much fatigue? Why do people walk? Why do people even have _feet_? The way Seongwu sees it, wings are the superior appendage. Gravity shouldn’t even exist.

He swears to himself that he will never run—or walk—in a marathon ever in his life. Not even if he gets paid to do it.

For now, though, he’ll just have to endure it.

After the vicious slope upward, the next section is fairly flat. The sun shines brightly, making the colors of the autumn leaves look sharper. A few more steps and Seongwu arrives at the convenience store. At its front, a large umbrella shades a wooden table and a straw-matted bench. There is an old man sitting there, a cup of tea in hand, looking ahead.

Seongwu spares him a glance and a tiny bow before going inside. He’s hit by the warmth coming from the heater as soon as he opens the door.

He buys three bottles of water, a pack of jelly beans, and a box of _Keroppi & Friends_ band-aids. While the girl at the counter quickly bags his purchase, he asks for directions to the restroom. She merely stares at him when Seongwu flashes her a smile in thanks.

 _You’re losing your touch,_ he can already hear Jaehwan saying to him, all smug.  

The restroom’s outside of the shop, and it’s well-kept, much to Seongwu’s surprise: aside from the broken set of tiles at the bottom of the sink, everything’s pretty clean. When he washes his hands and peeks at the mirror, he can see the extent of the bags under his eyes with much clarity.

The old man is still by the bench when Seongwu comes out, and the cup of tea in his hand is still almost full. Seongwu is caught by surprise yet again when the old man turns and grins at him.  

“I know what you’re going to say,” the old man begins. “I should stay inside. The cold will break my bones.”

“I wasn’t,” Seongwu lies.

The old man’s laugh reminds him of Jaehwan’s laugh, reedy and unfaltering. It also tells Seongwu that he hasn’t heard that in a long while. He hasn’t been in contact with people from home for far longer than he thought he could ever make himself do.

“Are you lost, boy?”

“Oh, no.” Seongwu holds out his cellphone, waving it slightly. “I’m just taking a walk.”

“Where are you going?”

“To Jeol-gil.”

The old man makes a noncommittal sound. “That’s not too far from here, ain’t it? If I could, I would join you.” He pats his knees with a chuckle. “Sadly, I don’t think my joints would be up for the job.”

“If you want, I can carry you.”

“With that body of yours? You look like you can hardly carry yourself.”

“I’ll have you know, gramps, I’m part of my university’s wrestling team.” Seongwu makes a show of flexing his biceps. One more lie can’t hurt.

The old man laughs harder, and Seongwu warms considerably. All in a day’s work.

“So, Mr. Wrestler,” the old man says, tracing the rim of the cup with a frail finger. “A university student, you say? From Seoul?”

“Yes.”

The way the old man’s smile settles on his face reminds Seongwu of Grandpa Im and of hazy, autumn mornings. “My, my. You’ve come from a far place,” the old man says. “Were there no buses from Chuncheon to Sinbeuk today?”

“There were, but I—” Seongwu coughs. “Wanted to give myself more time to do some… thinking. So. I walked.”

The smile grows wider. “About to make an important decision?”

Seongwu chews on his lower lip. “Something like that,” he croaks.

The old man hums. “That’s admirable. When I was your age, I never really did do a lot of walking. Didn’t like it. Didn’t like moving around so much.” He wrinkles his nose. _“_ Now look at me, always sittin’ on this same spot. Always sittin’.”

“I’m not a fan of walking either,” Seongwu feels obliged to share. “But my grandfather did it a lot whenever he felt that he was in a bind.”

The old man chuckles again. “That’s how most of us old folks do it. And has it helped you? So far?”

Seongwu blushes. “It made me remember a lot of things.”

The smile turns into a meaningful one. “I’m glad. And you chose a good place. This is the most scenic place in Chuncheon, in my opinion.”

“The view is certainly nice,” Seongwu agrees lamely.

The old man titters and finally brings his cup to his lips. He downs it like a shot. “Well, I won’t hold you here any longer. May you arrive safely to Jeol-gil.” He raises his empty cup.

“Thank you.” Seongwu bows. “And it was nice meeting you.”

When Seongwu is about a hundred meters away, he glances back to the shop. The old man remains seated and unmoving under the shade of the green umbrella.

 

 

~O~

 

 

14.7 km; 6.3 km remaining

 

 

…

 

 

Ong Seongwu, as has been pointed out many times, is a simpleton. He doesn’t mind so much now, when he gets called that. Though he used to kick up a fuss whenever his friends and family members made fun of how poorly he does in school and how standard slapstick can make him bust a gut, it’s something that he gradually came to accept. Acting on spinal reflex isn’t without benefits, besides—where other people hold back, Seongwu dives in for the kill, and he reaps all the awe for being such a comedic genius.

Being hopeless has turned out to be not much of a problem, as long as he doesn’t lose confidence in himself. Inadequacy is something that can be fought with an impish grin and a few choice one-liners.

But _feeling_ hopeless—it’s another monster altogether. Nothing can compare to how much Seongwu fears it, the feeling that he’s been caught in something, like there are two huge metal plates coming in from the sides, crushing him, and leaving him no space to breathe or move. That terrible, terrible feeling that he has no way out.

The first time he felt that was in his first year in high school, after a monumental screw-up in a small play the club had done for the school’s Foundation Day celebration. Seongwu played the White Tiger, the guardian of the forest of Jinae and the secret protector of Seol’s Chihoon. At one point in the play, Chihoon caught the White Tiger scurrying behind her as she went about her way in the woods. They have an important conversation, where the White Tiger revealed that he had been watching over her since the day of her birth, at the request of the Crow King.

“What are you?” Seol had said. “Why are you following me?”

Seongwu was supposed to say, _I am the tiger-monk of the west pagoda, appointed as your guardian by His Highness The Crow King._ But he skipped that and proclaimed instead, “Your name is Chihoon. You are the youngest daughter of a woodcutter who lived at the foot of the hill.”

“Yes, I am,” Seol responded. “But who are you?”

The look on her face told him something was wrong, but Seongwu could only exclaim, in consternation, “Your name is Chihoon!”

“Yes, I am Chihoon. But who are _you?_ ” Seol stressed.

Seongwu froze. For some reason, he couldn’t zone in on Seol’s prompt, couldn’t remember what he was supposed to answer. He stared back at the audience, and there was no doubt that they could see the panic in his eyes.

 _Who are you?_ they seemed to ask as well.

It’s the single most terrifying thing that ever happened to him on stage. Even until now, Seongwu can’t really understand what happened to him back there. One minute, everything was going well, and then suddenly, there’s an unnamable force that grabbed hold of him, turned his fingers cold, made his ears ring, left his mouth dry. All he knows is that it’s the worst feeling he’s ever felt in his life, and that he never wanted to be placed in the same spot again. He had trouble taking up lead roles for a while, until all his sunbaes wheedled him out of his rut and forced him to take the role of The Magistrate for the play _The Necromancer_.

But of course, it’s not the last time Seongwu found himself in such a position. The second time, it would be on a small, abandoned lot behind Hansaem, at almost the tail-end of his first year in high school.

The third time, it would be almost a year ago, on a snowy December 10th.

 

 

…

 

 

_Winter, January 2013_

 

…

 

 

Seongwu was reasonably popular with girls. It made total sense: he’s taller than average, he’s good-looking, funny. He could act, sing, dance, model, and he knew his way around words better than most high school boys. The girls didn’t flock to him the way they did with Minhyun, but he got asked out a lot of times. He never answered them outright, preferring to keep them at an arm’s length.

“You’re the worst,” Seol said, one lazy afternoon, when she caught him accepting a blushing girl’s homemade cookies with a wide grin. “It’s really fucking easy: just say yes or no.”

Seongwu shrugged and hoisted himself up on the window sill. “Why?”

“Well, do you like her?”

“I like her, but I don’t exactly like _like_ her.”

“So say no.”

“But.” Seongwu groaned. “I don’t want to, like, reject her. It’s just, she’d feel all—you know. _Sad_. And it’ll be all my fault.”

Seol snorted delicately and rolled her eyes. “She’ll move on, idiot. The sooner you say no, the sooner she’ll look for someone else to pester with her baked goods.” She gave him a look of pure disdain. “If you don’t want to make anyone feel _sad_ , then stop being an asshole and giving them false hopes. You gotta know when to stop putting on a show, Seongwu.”

“Wow, _ouch._ This is why you’re my favorite sunbae, noona,” Seongwu said dryly. “Well, I say: keep it comin’, keep it comin’.” He threw her the pack of cookies.

“And I’m just saying.” She sighed, opening the pack and taking a piece. “It must be nice being the apple of everyone’s eye,” she said as she nibbled.

“As long as I’m the apple of _your_ eye, I don’t need anyone else.”

Seol shook her head, smiling. “I bet you flirt like that with everyone.”

“No, I don’t~”

Seol laughed then. “You fucking tease,” she said fondly.

 

 

…

 

 

The things Seol said that afternoon made Seongwu a lot more contemplative, and, as he walked home from school, he tried to think of anyone he wanted to be with in a more intimate level. No name came up.

It’s not that he liked stringing people along, he reasoned with himself. He liked attention, and it just so happened that girls gave theirs just as readily as Seongwu gave his. It’s something that worked, and Seongwu made sure that he acted in a way that no one would ever expect him to say yes.

Besides, it just felt _wrong_. To accept a confession from any of them.

_I bet you flirt like that with everyone._

Seongwu grimaced. Saying the exact words to appease people was reflex to him—but he’s not _that_ bad, was he?

Nearing the playground, he stopped dead in his tracks, and it took a few minutes before he could walk along.

Seongwu stared at his bedside the whole night, unable to sleep. For he could think of _one_ person he never really had to try anything with, and that—that’s not different.

Was it?

 _Maybe it’s a bit different with him,_ Seongwu thought. The other boy was a happy bug, if a person ever met one, and thus Seongwu’s dynamic with him was unlike anyone else’s.

He’s not Minhyun. He’s not like any of Seongwu’s admirers. He didn’t exactly need some egging on to have fun. He didn’t need Seongwu to goof around, or laugh freely, or to smile. And the guy smiled that sheepish, bunny smile a whole, damn lot.

Seongwu wondered if the younger boy would blush and hide his face with a shy grin, if Seongwu told him the right things, just like everyone did. He wondered what it’d look like.

Seongwu bit his lip. _So…_

It’s different, but only by a teensy bit.

_It’s different._

_He’s different._

Seongwu fumbled with his bed sheets and threw them over his head. His cheeks felt hot, and his ears rang.

He went to school the next day in a trance. He’s tired, but for some reason he couldn’t fall asleep even in class. A few people in Performing seemed to notice his dazed state, but thankfully let him off the hook.

The next thing he knew, he was being ushered to an empty lot behind the school grounds, by some first-year girl from the next class. Seongwu’s brain couldn’t come up with a name even as the girl nervously held up a box of Seongwu’s favorite chocolates from downtown. There’s a card cut into a lovely heart shape on top of the package, a small note expressing the depth of her feelings, perhaps. Seongwu didn’t bother to read it.

Automatically, Seongwu took the chocolates.

The girl talked and talked, one of her hands wringing her delicate wrist.

 _It’s not supposed to be different_ , Seongwu thought, feeling trapped.

“Will you date me, Seongwu-ssi?”

 _It’s supposed to be easy._ It’s supposed to be—

“Yeah,” Seongwu said breathlessly.

 

…

 

 

To prepare himself, Seongwu had done research.

“Love and domination are very different things,” Seongwu read out loud a passage from one of the few books Seol had lent him. “Nowadays, people think of love as owning someone, and being owned in return. But love is not about possession nor controlling your loved one. It is not episodic. Love is not marked by one heated moment, is not only about fluttering hearts, tension-filled confessions and grand gestures.”

He stopped to stuff more noodles in his mouth, chewed, and then continued, “Love is about ensuring the person you love grows and flourishes. Love is a work of art, but most of all, it is work. It is a choice and a deed.”

Seongwu swallowed and blinked thrice. His head poked out of the tome. “What the hell does that even mean?” he yelled, his voice echoing in their clubroom.

When he’s met with confused looks, Seongwu turned to Minhyun beside him. His best friend could only shrug.

“You’re supposed to be the romantic one,” Seongwu said with a huff. He closed the book and slammed it down on the desk. “Ugh. This is high school shit. I probably shouldn’t be taking this seriously.”

“And yet you are,” Minhyun said, mouth lined with black bean sauce. “Fancy that.”

 

 

…

 

 

_Winter, February 2013_

 

…

 

On his way back from school, Seongwu bought carp bread from one of the stalls in the uptown market. He munched on a piece as he headed to Daniel’s place. He’s a little famished from the long walk home.

It was one of the old maids that greeted him at the door, welcoming Seongwu warmly as soon as he set foot in the house. Seongwu made a shocked face, telling her that it was amazing that looking after Daniel hadn’t aged her one bit, and he’s delighted by her peals of laughter.

“I sometimes wish Euigeon-ie would actually trouble us,” Hyeja, the maid said. “It gets boring with no work aside from the usual chores.” She smiled. “But I feel like we’d get our hands full with you.”

Seongwu grinned. “I’d try my best.”

“What sort of trouble have you been up to this past month?”

Seongwu waved. “Same as always, ma’am.”  

When Seongwu knocked on the bedroom door, a bewildered Daniel opened it for him.

“You don’t have to knock every time you want to come in, hyung,” Daniel said as he sat on one of his cushions. “Door’s never locked.”

Seongwu threw him a mischievous look as he handed Daniel the packet of bread. He teased, “What if I barge in and catch you doing something you don’t want me to see?”

“Really? You’re going for that?” Daniel smirked. “The last thing I remember, _you’re_ the one who has a pretty girlfriend, and yet—”

Seongwu lunged for Daniel’s waist, throwing his whole weight against the younger boy to pin him against the carpeted floor.

“Woah!” Daniel tried to sidestep but it was too late, and they both stumbled and fell on a tall pile of discarded clothes, legs scrambled together.

Daniel conked Seongwu lightly on the head. “That hurt!” he said, laughing after.

“We are _not_ talking about that!” Seongwu conked Daniel’s head back.

Daniel reeled to his side, laughing hysterically.

Seongwu rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, feigning annoyance. He hauled the two of them up. “I know we promised that we’d tell each other if something happened,” he said. “But jeez—you gotta recognize, it’s _way_ too early for that. We’re not—you know?”

Daniel’s lips downturned. “I really don’t. You don’t talk about her that much. At least to me you don’t.”

Seongwu stared down on his feet as he sat on the foot of the bed. He looked up towards the ceiling. “We’re doing fine, I think,” he mused out loud.

“You think?”

Seongwu shrugged helplessly.

“Is it…” Daniel seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. “Weird?”

Seongwu ran his fingers through his hair. “A little,” he confessed. “Her hands are really… soft.” There was a muted _pfft_ , and he turned to his left and glared. “ _What_?”

Daniel grinned. “What exactly were you expecting, hyung?” he said. “You know girls slather lots of stuff on themselves. Like those white, creamy thingies in tiny tubes.”  

“Hand creams,” Seongwu said, huffing. He took out a piece of carp bread from the bag and offered one to Daniel. “I don’t know. I was just surprised. I’ve never held someone’s hand for a long time before.”

“Really?”

“What? And you have?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, and at Seongwu’s astonished expression, he explained, “It was a classmate of mine. I was dared into doing it. I asked her permission, of course. She was nice.”

Seongwu sat up straighter. “Woah,” he said. “How was it?”

“It _is_ soft,” Daniel recalled in awe as he nibbled on his carp bread. “And their fingers are tiny. It’s like you could break them if you squeeze too hard.”

“Why would you squeeze their hand?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“I don’t know either—is that something I should know?” Seongwu said. “Because I don’t know squat about hand-holding. Or dating. At least, not yet, really.”

They grew quiet for a moment.

Daniel then spoke up, “Have you kissed her?”

Seongwu sighed again and said, “No. Not yet.”

“Ahh,” Daniel said, taking another piece. “So, like, there’s a plan?”

Seongwu turned to Daniel, and saw that the other boy was smiling softly at the ceiling. There were bread crumbs at the edge of his mouth.

Seongwu bowed his head, feeling anxious, though he could not tell why. “I haven’t… I haven’t really thought about it,” he said.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Daniel’s head tilting to his direction. “Really?” Daniel exclaimed.

Seongwu shook his head. He really hadn’t. Despite all he’d read and the advice Seol and Eunji gave him, he still had a hard time figuring out what to do on dates, his brain failing to catch up to it all. Going out with Jinri was nice— _she_ was nice—but his stomach always flipped in unease whenever he held out his hand for her.

“Well, it’s only been two weeks. And it’s my first time. I don’t want to be bad at it,” Seongwu guessed. “First kisses are, you know. A _milestone_.”

Daniel hummed. “True.”

Seongwu decided he had enough of the conversation and asked, “What about you? Why haven’t you had a girlfriend yet?”

Daniel snorted. “Me?” he said, laughing after. “Right. You know, hyung, it wasn’t a long time ago since you rescued me from a bunch of bullies who liked to tease me about being ugly.”

It was Seongwu’s turn to scoff. “Is this guy for real?” he murmured. And then, to Daniel, he said, “Sure, fine. Not a lot of time has passed, but you know, you’re actually—”

Daniel turned to him fully, eyebrows quirked.

“Not hideous,” Seongwu let out, his neck heating up. “You know?” He hoped Daniel got what he meant and proceeded to slap Daniel on the chest a few times. “Have some confidence in yourself, will ya?”

Daniel pursed his lips. “You make it look so easy.”

“Eh.” Seongwu grinned, loping an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Well, whatever am I not good at?”

“Dating.” Daniel snorted in merriment when Seongwu’s grip turned into a chokehold.

Seongwu slapped the side of Daniel’s head. “See here, Whiskas—once you get into the whole shebang, now you have someone to turn to for advice!”

Daniel chuckled, bread bits sputtering out from his lips. “So it’s totally part of some plan?”

“It’s all part of the _master_ plan,” Seongwu corrected.

“I thought the masterplan was to do more of what we wanted to do.”

“It’s a subset,” Seongwu explained patiently. “I know I keep saying this, but _man_ , whatever will you do without me?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “No offense, hyung, but I seriously don’t want to hear any dating advice from you, seeing how you are right now,” he said. “And it’s not like I have any time to date in between matches.”

“B-boying first, as always,” Seongwu muttered and held up his glass of water.

Daniel had already competed in three local hip-hop competitions last year. To keep up with him, Seongwu took on more responsibilities in Performing, and already started looking into universities for stage acting.

They were leveling up, just like in Daniel’s video games. Getting better and stronger. In some ways, it was like a promise they made to each other.

Daniel grinned, clinking his own glass with Seongwu’s. “Always,” he said.

They both chugged it down in one go, drinking it like they would if they had hard liquor in their hands. They were still too young for that, but Seongwu could already picture them in some tavern, letting out boisterous laughs with only just a few rounds of _soju_. Give or take a few years and it’d happen. He couldn’t wait.

(But Seongwu supposed what they had at the moment was pretty good too: sharing sweets under the sleepy glow of dusk, resting a tired head against a sturdy wall after a long day. Having fun with his childhood friend, in a room that never seemed to change—

More than anything, Seongwu couldn’t wait for Daniel to graduate from junior high.)

They decided to watch a movie after that, some old Thai movie called _Seasons Change,_ a short romantic comedy that Jinri recommended. Seongwu had rented a copy from one of his classmates and asked Daniel to watch with him. It didn’t take that much convincing for Daniel to agree.

Daniel fell asleep a few minutes into the movie, probably wiped from dance practice. He’s curled up into a ball in one of the mats they laid out, eyebrows creased together and mouth slightly open. He started snoring in the middle of the movie, and Seongwu, laughing, decided it was time to head out.

Seongwu gently threw a blanket over him and laid out a glass of water. After asking from Hyeja, he placed a bottle of mouthwash on the nightstand, just in case Daniel would wake up with a raw, itchy throat in the morning.

 

 

…

 

 _Winter, last week of February 2013_

 

…

 

 

It’d been a month since Seongwu started seeing Jinri. He decided that it was probably the best time to kiss her. And he did, one day during their shared lunch break, under an oak tree by the gym. It was sort of nice. For the whole week, they did it three more times.

The week after that, Jinri broke up with him. It was something about fireworks and fireflies, things that apparently Seongwu wasn’t capable of conjuring. Seongwu agreed, sort of, and the realization left him curling into a ball in his room and feeling bad about himself for a whole weekend.

Where had he gone wrong exactly? He did everything he was told he should do, did everything he could think of. He brought her to dates, bought matching key chains, held her hand. Kissed her.

He might not have liked everything they’ve done together, but he tried.

How lame was he?

Seongwu sighed and placed a pillow over his head, wishing he could be someplace else. He wished he was in the clubroom at the moment, poring over scripts he already knew by heart. He wished he could hang out with Jonghyun and Minhyun, and he cursed the fact that they had so much to do before the promotion ceremonies at the end of the month.  

Most of all, he wished Daniel was here. Seongwu’s stomach twisted at the thought.

Daniel was busy, and Seongwu was busy and had a girlfriend. They hadn’t been hanging out as much as they wanted. Seongwu missed him, in ways he hadn’t expected.

Minhyun was his best friend in the entire world, and that’s just how things were from the start. Seongwu’s a firm believer that a person could only have one best friend, that there could only be a single person for every role in his life, and he really didn’t think anyone else could fill the bill as perfectly as Minhyun could.

If Hwang Minhyun was his best friend, then what exactly was Daniel’s place in Seongwu’s life?

Seongwu pressed his pillow tightly over his mouth, so his voice would be muffled and he wouldn’t hear himself say, “With Niel, maybe things really are a bit different.”

In just a month, Daniel would be in Hansaem High. They’d have more opportunities to hang out, and perhaps Seongwu wouldn’t feel so unhappy and uneasy anymore. Everything would be alright soon enough.

 

 

 

~O~

 

16.2 km; 4.8 km remaining

 

 

…

 

 

Minhyun’s voice is loud and demanding in his ear, “Where are you?”

Seongwu looks around. There’s a bench nearby, and Seongwu sits. “Wait,” he says. “Let me check.” He opens NAVER Map and tells Minhyun, “I’m in the—uh, second bus stop at Sinmae-ri, it says.”

A pregnant pause, and then there’s a loud crackle at other end of the line.

“I’ll come talk to you for a while, okay?” Minhyun says. Seongwu hears hurried footsteps in the background. “So stay put.”

“Do I have a say in that?”

“No, not really.”

Seongwu laughs. He leans his back firmly against the bench. “Alright,” he says tiredly.   

 

 

 

…

 

 

_Almost Spring, March 2013_

 

…

 

 

Seongwu realized he fell in love with Kang Daniel on the first day of his second year in high school.

Unlike in middle school, Seongwu was walking down the hallways alone when he spotted Daniel by the mouth of the lobby, at the other side of the corridor. And unlike in middle school, Daniel wasn’t alone. A shorter guy with light brown hair was standing next to him.

Daniel met his eye. He held up his hand and called out, “Hyung! Seongwu hyung!” The boy then smiled and whispered something to his companion. After a nod, he ran over to where Seongwu was, bag swinging wildly at his side.

There was that feeling again, like a baseball had suddenly struck Seongwu’s chest—but it’s not the same thing he felt back in middle school, not entirely.

 _What?_ Seongwu exclaimed in his head, when he clocked in on the warm sensation in him that arose thereafter, unbidden. And then: _him? Really?_

“You look so surprised to see me,” Daniel said with a laugh, fixing the sling of his bag. “I thought we agreed we’d go to the same high school.”

Seongwu stumbled with words, “I-I’m not!”

Daniel gave him a puzzled look before pointing back to his new friend, who’s talking to another student. “Got you a new recruit,” Daniel said excitedly. “His name’s Jaehwan, and he’s an _amazing_ singer, hyung! I already gave him a gist of what you guys do, and he says he’d love to join your club!”

Seongwu responded absently, almost breathless, “Really? Oh, wow.”

Daniel’s expression grew even more confused, and Seongwu, in a fit of panic, blurted, “Wow, Niel-ah. If he’s a recruit, then aren’t you going to introduce him to me?” He tried for an exasperated sigh, but to his horror, it came out sounding fonder than he intended. “Why’d you leave him there, stupid?”

Daniel’s smile turned sheepish, and he ran back to call to Jaehwan.

Seongwu made use of the moment to recover. He’s annoyed. For this to come up, at such an inopportune moment.

Out of all people, and it’s _Kang Daniel_ that Seongwu’s stupid, traitorous heart had latched on—

All of a sudden, Daniel’s by his side again. The distance between them had shrunk without Seongwu noticing.

“Seongwu hyung,” Daniel said, smiling. He gestured to his side. “I’d like you to meet Kim Jaehwan-ssi of class 1-C.”

The brown-haired boy beamed at Seongwu. His eyes crinkled into slits. “Hi! How ya doin’?” He was loud, all exaggerated movements. He would definitely be a good addition to the group.

Seongwu shook his head to clear his thoughts, and started all over, “Hello, Kim Jaehwan-ssi.” He let out a shark-like grin. “How’d you like to join the Performing Arts Club?”

 

 

 

…

 

 

For the walk home, Seongwu tried his best to keep things normal on his own end, but his body was decidedly jumpy, and his responses were stilted at best. He’s irritated with himself. He hated awkwardness the most.

Daniel was still wrapped up in marveling at anything and everything he discovered in his new school.

“You have two gyms,” he exclaimed. “ _Two_!” From the corner of his eye, Seongwu could see the younger boy kicking stray rocks over the dusty road.

“There’s just too many of us for one,” Seongwu replied, gaze ahead. “If you went to Maekpo, the gyms would probably be better.”

“I guess.” Daniel shrugged. “And holy crap, there are almost fifty members in the Street Club. Fifty! Wow! It was almost crowded in the clubroom. I couldn’t believe it!”

“We’ll crush you Street kids like a bug in the festival.”

“Ahh, so scary.”

“Hey, Daniel.”

“Hmm?”

Seongwu couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking when he asked, “Are you happy?”

“Happy?”

“Happy. That you came to Hansaem.”

Daniel made a vague sound. “Why are you even asking? Of course I am.”

“Okay,” Seongwu breathed. He ducked and smiled to himself. “That’s good.”

“Alright,” Daniel said. “For a second there, I thought you were regretting everything.”

Seongwu whipped his head so fast he thought he was going to break his neck. “What?”

Daniel shrugged again. “It’s like you were wishing I was at Maekpo Academy instead, or something like that.” He narrowed his eyes briefly at Seongwu. “So, you’re not?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“That’s good then,” Daniel said to the skies, arms crossed at the back of his head. “I’m hungry, hyung,” he then announced.

Seongwu snorted. “What’s new?”

“Well, I’m _really_ hungry.”

“You just ate the pack of breadsticks I gave you.”

Daniel wrapped one heavy arm around Seongwu’s shoulders, and another around Seongwu’s waist. He shook Seongwu slightly. “Let’s go get ramen. Ramen!”

“You’re being extra whiny and clingy today,” Seongwu said, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“Because you’re being extra quiet today,” Daniel remarked. “So let’s go.” His grip around Seongwu tightened, and there was no escape.

Seongwu nodded, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at Daniel’s victorious howls by his side. It was futile to resist, and Seongwu sighed inwardly, resigning himself to an unrequited love with his childhood friend.

As they walked through a new road, Seongwu pondered on what he should do next. He thought of what he ought to say, the same way he turned over lines in his head for succeeding scenes, figuring how he’d sound like.

Seongwu wondered what’d happen if he ever confessed.

“Jihoon would be coming to my place this weekend. If you’re not too busy, you can come with,” Daniel said, interrupting Seongwu’s thoughts. “He has this new console he wanted to try with me. I haven’t played a lot recently, so he’d probably pummel me the first few times.”

“You should have him and Jaehwan meet,” Seongwu suggested. “It’ll be utter chaos.”

Daniel laughed. “That’s genius.” Happiness leaked in his words, and Seongwu felt it around him like a quiet embrace.

Seongwu smiled absently, nodding to himself and thinking, _what if?_

Daniel laughed. He laughed all the time.

Seongwu pictured a back of a building, a tiny confession, and then…

Seongwu’s gut clenched, when his mind conjured an image of that ever-constant laughter, suddenly wiped off of Daniel's lips.

Daniel’s a guy. They both are. And they’d been friends for ages. After a year of some form of separation, they’re finally together again. If Seongwu sprang it up on him out of nowhere, then there’s no question as to how Daniel would react.

Besides, they promised to get stronger, hadn’t they? If Daniel’s fleeting touches made Seongwu weak in the knees, then it's not a time for love, was it?

Meanwhile, Daniel was smiling over some mundane thing: a pair of crows on a tree branch, cleaning each other’s feathers. “Like that last scene in _The Crow King_ ,” he pointed out softly.

 _Why him?_ Seongwu thought again. He’s annoyed at himself, annoyed at the buzzing in his ears, at the way his heart skipped a beat.

But what if—what if he fell for someone else? What if, he wondered, he fell for a jerk, or someone twice his age? Maybe his homeroom teacher? Seongwu would probably never hear the end of it.

At least, if he were to honestly say so, Kang Daniel was not the worst person to become Seongwu's first love.

 

  

…

 

  _Present Day_

 

…

 

 

“I’m not going to ask what you were thinking, because I knew you weren’t at all.”

“What a burn.” Seongwu takes the coffee can from Minhyun’s hands and pats the empty space next to him.

Minhyun sighs before taking a seat. They’re both quiet for a moment.

“You should’ve said you’d be coming home,” Minhyun admonishes.

“It hasn’t been long since I left, quit sounding like I’ve been away for a decade,” Seongwu says. He opens the can and mutters his thanks. “Besides, I’m not sure if I’d be staying long.”

“How many days do you think you could?”

“Three, four days.”

“That’s not too bad,” Minhyun says, slouching over the back of the bench. “We could have drinks with all the club alumni since most of them are here for the festival.” He takes out his phone from his pocket. “Maybe I could text some of the guys and we’ll—”

“Taking a bus all the way here to this empty town,” Seongwu interrupts, frowning. “Bringing me coffee and inviting me out for drinks with the rest of the gang.” Even after Seongwu inadvertently ghosted every single one of them. “You sure are taking that extra mile for a pal.”

“Who says I’m doing it all for you, you jerk?” Minhyun sends something in a group chat that hasn’t been used in a while. “I’m just that good a person.”

Seongwu sighs around his drink. “Maybe you are, a little,” he concedes.

Minhyun laughs. “Eh, well. You’d do it for me too if I ever wound up doing something crazy and stupid.” He nudges him. “M’glad to see you’re okay, though. How many hours have you been walking?”

“Oh, I—” Seongwu peers down at his phone. “Almost… eight hours?”

“Eight hours,” Minhyun repeats in a whisper. “What? Seriously?”

“I think so.”

Minhyun laughs louder. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” He pats Seongwu’s shoulder. “Now you _really_ have to come drink with the guys!”

“And have you punks treat me like some kind of prodigal child?” Seongwu snorts. “Uh, no thanks.”

“Well, you are acting like one. What is with this shit you’re pulling? Some kind of walk of penance?”

Seongwu buries his face in his windbreaker. “More like delaying the inevitable,” he mumbles. “I don’t know. I’m figuring stuff out.”

As usual, it doesn’t take long for Minhyun to catch on, “Like how Grandpa Im does?”

“Like how Grandpa Im does,” Seongwu affirms. “Only this walk is taking much longer than I expected.”

“No surprises there, since you suck at math so much.”

“Your petty words won’t bring me down~” Seongwu sings, and Minhyun lightly jabs his side.

After Seongwu finishes his drink, Minhyun asks, “Does Daniel know you’re coming?”

“I texted him to ask if I could drop by to his place,” Seongwu says in a low voice. “He told me it was fine.”

“Of course he would be.”

Seongwu’s laugh rings hollow, even to his ears. “You seem to know him better than I do.”

Minhyun turns to his phone and reads a message he’s gotten. “Well, we all have our blind spots. Yours just happens to be on how much people care about you.”

Seongwu decides it’s high-time he tells Minhyun, “I said something wrong, back in December. I said some things that I didn’t mean and I—fuck, I messed up. Really messed up.” He’s vaguely aware of his nails digging hard on the wood.

“Well, what do you want to do now?”

There is a heavy ache in Seongwu's chest ever since that day in the fields with Daniel. All he knows is that right now, what he wants the most in the world is to clear the separation between them. Right now, all he wants is for them to be friends again.

Seongwu sighs and says, “I just—for the most part, I just want things to go back to the way they were before.”

Minhyun hums. “And how were things before?”

If there’s anything the long walked truly helped him in, it’s how Seongwu was able to slow down his mind and dredge up memories he thought he’s long forgotten. He can recall just how things were weird and complicated in a way they weren’t when they were so much younger. He can recall feeling a whirlwind of emotions, too tangled together for him to split apart and put a name to each one of them.

He remembers afternoons in a deserted playground, and quiet nights in a too-large room. He remembers looking over his shoulder for most of his first year, and the immense feeling of relief when he finds someone there by his side during his second.

He remembers falling in love, and never quite falling out.

“Before was better than this,” Seongwu whispers.

“Oh.”

“I’ll fix it,” Seongwu says stubbornly. “I came back because I want to fix it. And I will. I don’t know how yet, but I will.”

Minhyun nods resolutely and places a gentle, reassuring hand on Seongwu’s shoulder.

 

 

…

 

 

Before high school, Ong Seongwu did not think much about love.

He has a caring family, a tight group of friends, and a good amount of people who follow and support him. Seongwu has a crazy set of instincts for what people wanted, more so for what they wanted from him, and most of the time, he doesn’t fail in delivering. With all that, love was something he thought he didn’t have to worry so much about.

Back then, whenever he thought about love, he thought about a spotlight and a crowd of people, his heart working overtime. Back then, love came with the tingling sensation that he’s being noticed.

Seongwu has grown addicted to performing with all that he has, to prove his worth to stand on stage. He loves the rush that it gives him, loves the sound of happy, tinkling laughter, and the torrent of pride that comes whenever he registers that he was the reason behind it all. For people to want his company and be comforted by it was all he thought he ever needed.

Then Seongwu entered high school, and love, which barely resided at the back of his mind, became something he had to pay attention to. With all the cookies, the love letters clumsily shoved in his bag, and the dozens of confessions, Seongwu read books, and asked his sunbaes tips on wooing and falling in love.

When Seongwu saw Daniel in the dingy hallways of Hansaem High during his second year, spring was well on its way. All things were starting to get warm and somehow shining.

First loves never lasted; he’s heard that so many times it’s almost an adage. If that’s how it was, then Seongwu supposed it wasn’t worth chasing away his friend of eleven years for something that would fade as easily as a photograph.

And so, that was how things went, for the rest of his high school years.

Like a wobbly newborn deer, Seongwu navigated through the terrain of unrequited, unwanted first loves. The first few days of not meeting Daniel’s eye were hard, but they were quickly followed by Seongwu horsing around with the younger boy without turning into a blushing mess, and things eventually became Seongwu’s new normal. As usual, with Daniel, Seongwu didn’t have to try so hard.

Perhaps love was something Seongwu used to think he has to work for, but being in love with Daniel is just too easy and effortless, it almost feels like a gift.  

 


	4. tell a lie, watch it float

~O~

 

 

17.7 km; 3.3 km remaining

 

…

 

 

It’s been a while since Minhyun’s bus back to Jeol-gil left. The streets are so empty that Seongwu can clearly hear the sound of his shoes meeting the ground and the feeble wind blowing in the tops of the trees.

After a bend in the road, the terrain becomes a flatland. Seongwu passes by numerous rice fields and rowhouses alongside. The bustle of the farming town immediately following the thirty-five minutes Seongwu walked in relative silence disorients him.

An elderly couple hails him and hands him a flyer when he greets them.

“Aren’t you tired, young man?” the old lady says.

Seongwu is exhausted. “Nothing makes me tired, _halmeoni_!” he says with bluster.

“Ahh, well, just in case. Our rest house is just past the paddies.” She points to a homey-looking cottage overlooking a nearby rice field.  “Tell you what. Since you’re such a polite, handsome young man, I’ll throw in a free breakfast if you stay for the night!”

Seongwu glances at the flyer. “You just opened?” he says.

“It’s a venture for my husband and I,” the lady replies. She smiles at her husband, and the old man smiles back, just as serenely. “We have a big family, you see, and with all of our sons working in Seoul, we now have three spare rooms. The house is quite large to have only the both of us. And it’s not like we’re that old to not have something to do for ourselves!”

“You’re definitely not,” Seongwu agrees amiably.

The lady nods. “You must have come from so far. Why won’t you stay?”

“I need to be somewhere before the sun sets. I really have to go,” Seongwu says apologetically, bowing after. He wonders how travel-worn he must look right now. His pace has gotten slower and slower as he neared his hometown.

“Is it urgent? We can have one of my neighbors bring you to the station—"

“No, it’s fine! I’m terribly sorry.”

The lady laughs. “It’s alright. My, my. You truly have such a handsome face. My sons are quite handsome too, if I do say so myself. But.” She makes a gesture at herself. “Well. They may have a little bit too much of me.”

Seongwu opens his mouth, ready for a counter, but stops himself when the old man wraps his trembling, bony fingers around his wife’s wrist and squeezes. He shakes his head mutely at her.

The old lady’s features lighten in that moment. “Ahh, well. Safe travels! I do hope you’ll arrive before sunset!” she says.  

Seongwu bows again. “I’m sure the rest house will do great, _halmeoni. Harabeoji._ I hope your sons will come visit soon, too.”

The old lady titters warmly. “We pray to the gods each day.”

With a wave, Seongwu starts walking again.

 

…

 

_Fall, September 2013_

 

 

…

 

Jaehwan was both a blessing and a disaster that came into Seongwu’s life.

It was great that Daniel made a friend as soon as he entered high school. Seongwu was a bit worried that Daniel would have had trouble mingling with a new, bigger crowd, just as he had during his first year. It was nothing short of a miracle that Jaehwan was right behind him during the entrance ceremony for the first-years.

Kim Jaehwan’s a fun, happy kid, quick to laugh and quicker to retaliate when teased. He and Seongwu got along nicely, and he got the other Performing members to warm up to him without even having to resort to using fart jokes as an icebreaker. The energy went up whenever he’s in the room, and he had an ease to his shoulders that Seongwu secretly envied.

The amount of trouble Jaehwan got himself into was also astounding.

There was a time Seongwu and Minhyun passed through third floor hallways, on their way to get world maps from the Earth Science room, when they saw Daniel and Jaehwan kneeling on the floor with both of their arms raised.

“Jaehwan-ssi,” Minhyun said with a laugh. “What in the world have you done now?”

Jaehwan exclaimed, “It wasn’t me! Daniel made me do it!”

“I _didn’t_!” Daniel defended, bumping Jaehwan’s hips with his. “I just showed you a funny video of a squirrel. You’re the one who laughed so loud!”

Seongwu snickered. “Why are you even watching videos in Mr. Lee’s class?”

“It was boring,” Jaehwan said.

“You guys do it too,” Daniel pointed out.

“And do we get caught?” Seongwu said smugly. “You gotta work on your teamwork, you fools.”

“Why I oughta—” Mr. Lee shouted from inside the classroom. “Pipe down, you rascals, or I’ll add an extra hour to your miserable—!”

Minhyun and Seongwu decided it was time to make a run for it. Laughing, they promised to buy their hoobaes menthol patches before fleeing.

 

 

…

 

Daniel was not exaggerating one bit: Jaehwan was truly an amazing singer. He had good control, a wide vocal range, and he was versatile. He could play instruments, and most of all, he was _enthusiastic_.

“How about we try a new arrangement for this scene?” Jaehwan suggested when they went through revising an act for their upcoming play. “Instead of just the regular tambourines, we could add a _samulnori_!”

“That’s such an… odd choice,” Lee Kaeun, a third-year and the club president, said. “I guess it could work, but nobody here knows how to play traditional instruments.” She eyed Seongwu. “Well, at least properly.”

Seongwu made a scandalized gasp.

“We could practice!” said Jaehwan, powering through.

“The festival is in two months,” Kim Dowoon, one of the third-years who hadn’t retired from the club, chimed in. “We _could_ practice, but crafting a new arrangement from scratch—”

Jaehwan said, “I’ll do it!”

Kaeun blinked. “Can you do it in a week?”

Jaehwan nodded quickly.

Kaeun pursed her lips. She then turned to the rest of the members. “We’ll have to put in an extra hour for those in the percussion team. Is that okay with you?”

She was met with a chorus of “yeah”s and “whatever”s. Only Myunjoon, a second-year in charge of the piano and drums for Performing, complained, “An _hour_? Can’t it be thirty minutes? We’re just gonna hit a _buk_ a couple of times—how hard could it possibly be?”

“It’s not like you’re using that time to study, you slacker,” Seol said, smacking Myunjoon at the back of his head.

“It’s decided then,” Kaeun said. “I’ll be putting you in charge for this, Jaehwan-ssi.”   

Jaehwan nodded again, grinning wide.

He finished his composition in four days. Kaeun and Myunjoon were very impressed; they only added minor revisions to accommodate the characters’ lines in the scene.  

“How do you do it?” Seongwu asked Jaehwan while they were raking leaves at the back of the gym. They got into trouble with the school’s custodian when he caught them using the storage desks as shields when they chucked paper cannon balls at each other after club practice.

Jaehwan stood up straight and leaned on his rake. “I don’t know. Practice?”

Seongwu shrugged. “If people get good with only practicing, don’t you think everyone would have done that already? You must be doing something different then.”

Jaehwan gave him a blank look.

Seongwu sighed, grip tightening around the rake handle. “If you don’t like sharing your secrets to me, that’s fine,” he said, keeping his tone as flippant as he could.

“I am sharing!” Jaehwan exclaimed. “I just practice every night! I pretty much don’t do anything else.”

“Even studying?”

“It’s so _boring_ ,” Jaehwan whined. “Besides, I have Niel-ie to tutor me. I don’t really care whether I do well or not as long as I pass and I can be in the club.”

 _Niel-ie?_ Seongwu smiled haplessly. “It’s good that he hasn’t given up on your dumb ass already.”

Jaehwan grinned back at him. “He’s really chill, unlike someone we both know.”

Seongwu kicked a few leaves at Jaehwan’s direction. Jaehwan laughed his high, shrieking laugh.

“So, all you do is play all night?” Seongwu questioned as soon as Jaehwan recovered.

Jaehwan bended down, brushing off a leaf from his slacks. “Well, yeah. It’s not like I love anything else. I want to make and play music—why should I do something else I don’t like?”

Seongwu stared at him in surprise.

There was a blush forming on the other boy’s face. “Yeah, I know—everybody thinks I’m stupid for thinking like that.” He pumped up his chest. “But yeah, I _am_ stupid! So, I’ve only got enough brain space for one thing, and it’s gotta be for something I really like!”

“Well, I’m stupid too,” Seongwu said, foot in mouth. “And I practice a _ton_ for what I like. But still, I…”

“Sunbae’s interested in more than one thing, right?” Jaehwan winked. “That’s why you’re good at a lot of stuff. Ong Seongwu: A One-Man Wonder.”

“I like _performing_ ,” Seongwu argued, waving his rake around like a magical staff. “And performing’s about a lot of things!”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly _what_?”

“You like a lot of things, and you want to do well in _all of them_! How much brain space do they use up?”

Seongwu’s jaw dropped. He’s taken aback by the sheer amount of logic in that.

Jaehwan’s grin turned smug. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Seongwu lied.

Jaehwan snickered again. He took out a garbage bag, and together, they stuffed in the leaves they had collected.

“Isn’t it normal to like more than one thing?” Seongwu said after a minute of silence.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Jaehwan responded. “But to dedicate yourself in more than one thing is different, maybe.” He chuckled. “If it matters, I think you’re amazing, sunbae.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Niel-ie thinks so, too.”

Seongwu blushed. “Does he, now?”

“Are you fishing?” Jaehwan laughed, one eyebrow arched. “But yeah, of course he does! He said you liked and did a lot of things that it was hard to keep up.”

Seongwu’s cheeks heated up even more. Maybe he _did_ like a lot of things—perhaps even things he shouldn’t be interested in.

He then said in a fluster, “If I want to be really, _really_ good at something, then am I supposed to choose?”

“I don’t think so,” Jaehwan said, staring up at the skies. “Well. I don’t actually know, sunbae. I’m just as stupid as you, remember?”

“Right,” Seongwu mumbled.

 

 

…

 

  

After dinner while he was washing the dishes, Seongwu felt the need to ask his sister, who came home for her semestral break, “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Seongmin paused from grabbing the dishtowel. “Yeah,” she answered. “Stupidly in love.”

Seongwu flicked his fingers at her. Soap suds stuck to the left side of her face. “Don’t think I don’t regret ever telling you that,” he said. “I’ve regretted it ever since, and I will for the rest of my life!”

Seongmin sniffled. “Spare me from the dramatics. And for the record, I think Daniel-ssi is a great choice, Seongwu.”

Seongwu ducked his head quickly. “I have great taste, obviously,” he muttered. He watched her at the corner of his eye. "You don't find it weird?"

"Oh, it _is_ weird, I'll give you that," Seongmin said with a soft laugh. "But you've always been weird with Daniel-ssi." She wrinkled her nose in thought. "You're more relaxed when he's around."

"Relaxed," Seongwu echoed. He handed her one dish to dry.

Seongmin took the dish vacantly, making a humming noise as she wiped it with the towel. “You’re simple-minded,” she finally said. “And you do some pretty idiotic stuff from time to time. But I don’t think you’re _really_ stupid. There's a difference.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Don’t worry. I’d tell you if you’re being one.”

Seongwu sighed. He didn’t lie when he responded, “Thanks. I feel better now, kinda.”

 

 

~O~

 

 

17.3 km; 3.7 km remaining

 

…

 

 

Seongwu’s yawning wide when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He swipes the screen and checks.

 _Minhyun just came back from an interesting trip,_ a text from Seongmin reads. _Well first thing’s first… I’m glad you’re coming home._

Seongwu’s phone pings again, and there’s a new message: _But once again…_

Another message: _You’re being stupid!!!_

Seongwu can’t help but smile. He expected that. _I miss you too sis,_ he types. He adds a, _> :)<_, just to assure her he’s fine.

The response comes quickly again. _I’m baking cookies for you. Come home fast. Don’t fall down or get murdered by a wild boar or anything like that!_

 _I won’t_ , Seongwu promises.

 

…

 

_Fall, November, 2013_

 

…

 

 

 

It was a week before the Harvest Moon festival. Seongwu was restless more than usual, feeling as if there was something crawling in his skin and compelling him to move around, even though he’s tired from all the rehearsals they’d had.

He texted Minhyun, even though he knew his best friend wouldn’t be able to read it; Minhyun’s mom always confiscated his phone whenever mid-terms and finals were close.  

After thirty minutes of bouncing up and down on his bed, which caused quite a ruckus (“What in the world are you doing, Seongwu?”), he went to the playground. After another hour of sitting on the swing set and waging a war with himself, he texted Daniel.

 _Of course you can come!!!_ was Daniel’s reply. _I’m out right now but i’ll be back at thirty!_

Daniel’s home was almost two kilometers away from the playground, a solid twenty-minute walk with Seongwu’s pace.

Seongwu used to feel guilty, dropping by all the time. But it’s hard to continue feeling that way when Daniel didn’t seem to mind at all. At the moment, all Seongwu felt was embarrassment. He wondered if he was being too obvious; no matter how hard he tried, even if he wasn’t entirely acting like a fumbling schoolboy with a pathetic crush, it’s as if his feelings couldn’t help but spill all over the place whenever they’re together. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Daniel had already figured him out. 

The thought that Daniel was only humoring him made him sick to his stomach.

He tried to banish that notion from his mind when he rang the doorbell and heard the shuffling of footsteps inside.

He beat Daniel to the manor by five minutes. To his surprise, Daniel had carp bread and sweet potatoes with him. The tea table was filled with Daniel’s mess, and so they proceeded to eat on the floor, setting the plates and pitcher on top of Daniel’s used shirts.

Daniel was wearing a black suit with a gray, checkered tie that’d been loosened around his neck. He kicked off his closed-toe shoes to the side. Seongwu stared after him as Daniel went across the room.  

“Harvest Moon jitters?” Daniel said as he sat crossed-legged across Seongwu.

“Yeah,” Seongwu replied vaguely. He tried to remember if there was something he’d forgotten.

“You’ll do good, Seongwu hyung. You always do.”

“Thanks,” Seongwu said, tongue-tied. Giving up, he asked in between mouthfuls of carp bread, “What’s with the suit?”

Daniel stretched his arms as he reached out for a glass of water. He wore an uneasy expression on his face. “Looks weird, huh? You’re always the one dressed up between the two of us.”

“No, it looks really good,” Seongwu managed. He pressed his lips together and then said, “You look a bit hot in it, though.”

Daniel took off his suit jacket. “Went to visit Mother. It’s her birthday today and… she said she wanted to see me wearing this. Because she never saw me in one.”

“Your mother?”

“Yeah.”

Seongwu frowned. “Where is she?”

“In the hospital.” Daniel shifted on his seat. “She’s—umm. She’s sick.”

“Sick,” Seongwu mouthed. “Of what?”

“Something really bad. She fell down a lot and now she’s got tubes all over her and everything,” Daniel murmured.

Seongwu almost dropped his piece of sweet potato. “That’s… awful. But… does that mean she doesn’t live with you? She stays in the hospital?”

Daniel nodded, shoulders hunched. “It’s been a long time since she’s been home. I—well. I guess I might have never told you.”

Seongwu ignored that. “Since _when_?”

“When I was seven. Shortly after I met you.”

That was a _really_ long time ago. Seongwu’s skin prickled. The revelation was too sudden that he couldn’t school his expression; the hurt must had been plain to see on his face. “And your dad?” Seongwu croaked. “Where is he?”

“Still here.” Daniel’s nose scrunched up. “Or well, not exactly. He has his new family and he lives with them right now.”

“So, your mom’s sick, and your dad’s not with you,” Seongwu pressed. “Who the hell takes care of you?”

Daniel’s cream dress shirt highlighted the way his neck flushed at the question. He nibbled at the tail of his carp bread, the other hand worrying the last button of his shirt. “Hyeja and the other ladies in this house do. They’re my dad’s maids. My dad’s still my legal guardian, though.”

“Your dad’s maids,” Seongwu said to himself incredulously.

Daniel nodded again stiffly.

“For the record, I mean full offense with this: your dad is a piece of shit.”

Daniel laughed awkwardly.   

“And you are, too.” Seongwu narrowed his eyes at Daniel, whispering, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was important—”

“Not important?”

Daniel blanched. “No, sorry. That came out wrong. It’s just… there didn’t seem to be a good time.”

“Is that for real? We’ve known each other for eleven years, Niel. _Eleven_!”

“I know,” Daniel said, almost pleading.

“You didn’t want me to know,” Seongwu said flatly. “Alright. That’s—that’s fine, I guess.”

“No, jeez—that’s not it—"

“Then _why_?”

“There really didn’t seem like a good time to tell you about her!” Daniel said. “You’re always happy when I’m with you, and I didn’t want to ruin it!”

All the words Seongwu wanted to say got swallowed back. The only thing he could manage was a horrified, “What?”

Daniel’s eyes were wide as he explained, “I just thought… we always have fun together, don’t we? If I said something that’ll make you unhappy, that’ll make you think of me differently… I thought—I don’t know. It just made total sense in my head,” he floundered. “But now that I’m telling you this out loud…”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Seongwu insisted. “And it really doesn’t.”

Daniel’s flush went high to his cheeks. He grimaced. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, voice low and tone sharp.

It was the first time Daniel talked to him in that way. It made Seongwu retaliate, “Look at you like what?”

“Like—like…”

“Like _what_?”

“Like I did something so horrible!” Daniel angrily exclaimed. His eyes turned glassy. “I just wanted us to be happy together always. Was that so bad?”

Seongwu’s trembling, heart thumping wildly against his chest. He’s torn between the urge to shake Daniel senseless and to hug him so tight neither of them would be able to breathe. His jaw clenched when he’s hit by the realization that it was their first ever fight.

Eventually, Seongwu gave in to the second urge. “Hey,” he said as he opened his arms wide.

The younger boy gave him a blank look, and Seongwu rolled his eyes. “What? Never been hugged by a guy before?” he said briskly.

“ _We’ve_ hugged before,” Daniel said.

“Yeah.” Seongwu shrugged. “So then why are you freezing at me like that?”

Daniel hesitated before crawling up to Seongwu’s side. He wrapped his arms around Seongwu’s shoulders and pressed his forehead at Seongwu’s nape.

It’s not the most comfortable of positions, but they made do. Daniel smelled like sweat, bread and clean soap. Seongwu sighed as he then placed his chin on top of Daniel’s hair. The restlessness he’d been feeling since this morning slowly died down.

“Did you tell Jihoon?”

“Jihoon knows.”

“Yeah. But did you _tell_ him?”

Daniel shook his head.

Seongwu let out an exasperated laugh. “Then who do you tell all these things to, you idiot?”

Daniel went quiet, and Seongwu hugged him tighter. He waited until Daniel’s tense shoulders slackened before saying, “Well, there’s me. There’s always me. I told you before already.”

Daniel sniffled. “Thank you,” he mumbled to Seongwu’s back.

“I’m sorry I got angry.”

“That’s okay.”

“And I’m sorry I made you angry on your mom’s birthday. Today, of all days.”

“Yeah. It’s—it’s alright.”

Seongwu didn’t know why he muttered the following sentences, just that after he sucked in a breath, the words came tumbling out in a rush: “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help but think that maybe you don’t really need me the way I want you to. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me…”

“That’s not true at all!” Daniel said quickly, voice hoarse. “How in the world did you come up with that notion?”

Seongwu bit his lower lip as he shrugged. Maybe he said too much again.

Daniel’s arms around him went tighter. “I _do_ need you. More than I think you realize,” he said softly to Seongwu’s ear. “Besides. It’s why—it’s why I wanted you to come today.”

Seongwu inhaled sharply. “Oh.”

“It just doesn’t sound cool, saying it out loud to you.”

Seongwu shook him. “That’s such a dumb reason!”

“I know that now!” Daniel jostled him back. “So. I’m sorry if I made you think that.”

“I—well. So, I guess we’re even?”

“Maybe?”

“Let’s just say we are.”

“Alright.” Daniel pressed his cheek on Seongwu’s ear. The younger boy let out a long and deep sigh; it made the hairs on Seongwu’s neck stand up.

“Man, your breath is cold,” Seongwu complained, holding back a shudder.

“You’re just too warm, hyung.”

Seongwu laughed again. His heart fluttered in a way he never thought it could. He hoped Daniel couldn’t feel it through the layers of clothes he had on. “I’ll let you go now.”

“Okay.”

There’s a different glimmer in Daniel’s eye when they faced each other again. Seongwu held back another sigh, thinking that he might never get used to the way his head spun whenever they’re this close to one another.

There were still three pieces of carp bread left. Seongwu reached out for one of them.

Daniel glanced at him. “Is there anything you want to know?”

Seongwu pondered for a minute. “Tell me about your mom,” he then said.

“She’s my best friend,” Daniel said somewhat dolefully, taking the other snack. “Jihoon was my second. And then I met you.”

“So, I’m the third?” When Daniel turned shamefaced, Seongwu snickered, his mood lifting. “That’s fine. Three’s a good number. Third time’s the charm, right?”

Daniel wondered out loud, “Minhyun hyung is your first, isn’t he? And am I your second?”

Seongwu waggled his eyebrows, leaned closer and puffed his cheeks full of sweetened red beans, making a ridiculous expression so that he didn’t have to answer. It worked; Daniel coughed and placed a hand over his mouth, holding back a laugh.

Minhyun was Seongwu’s first and only best friend, and Daniel fell in a different category, besides. _One person for every role_. He didn’t think he could be able to explain his whole philosophy without making a fool of himself.

Seongwu cackled then, remembering, “How about Jaehwan, _Niel-ie?_ ” he teased. “Is he your fourth best friend?”

Daniel groaned. “I can’t believe he used that nickname with you around. Now I’ll never hear the end of it!”

Seongwu rested his head on one of the pegs of the nightstand. “Well, at least I beat him at something,” he said tiredly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daniel looked away, turning his head towards the open window. The skies were dark—it seemed like it was about to rain. He lowered his eyes to his lap before facing Seongwu again, a bashful grin on his face. “Hey. I haven’t had a chance to introduce you to Mother, and well. She’s been asking. Would you like to visit her someday with me?”

Daniel didn’t really have to ask; Seongwu didn’t even think about his answer. “You bet.”

 

 

…

 

 

After changing back to their uniforms, Seongwu found himself in the middle of the crowd, bunched together with his club members. For a brief moment, the stage was dark, and then the lights flared, and the ground shook at the booming bass from the speakers.

The chosen members of Street danced and jumped around to the erratic beat of some Japanese techno-pop, which was quickly followed by a bass-boosted mix of Western EDM. Seongwu vaguely recognized some of the songs in the setlist; Daniel hummed a couple of them whenever they walked home together.

 _Ah, fuck,_ Seongwu thought as the show progressed.

Despite being a first year, Daniel was definitely the center of their performance. He had a rap solo for the opening and was given the trickier stunts. Like the rest of the male dancers, he wore tacky plaid trousers held up by suspenders, a grey muscle tee, and a fedora. It really shouldn’t suit anyone, but he managed to pull it off. Sweat had made Daniel’s shirt cling to his chest, and his arms were toned in no way a regular high schooler’s should be. Seongwu felt a flicker of awe and annoyance.

He eyed the gaggle of girls at the foot of the stage, shrieking whenever Daniel did a hand hop and way too many hip jerks. It made Seongwu snort to himself, recalling their earlier conversation in the playground. Daniel had really succeeded in conquering the heart of every teenage girl in their high school, whether he’s aware of it or not.

Daniel and his second-year partner did one of those gravity-defying backflips, and Seongwu heard himself holler, fist pumping vigorously in the air.

Myunjoon slapped his arm down. “Stop cheering for the enemy, you doof.”

“Just let him, sunbae. He can’t help but be an embarrassment,” Jaehwan said, shooting Seongwu a knowing grin.

Seongwu pretended not to catch Minhyun’s ghost of a laugh beside him.

At the end of the performance, Daniel seemed to be looking for someone in the audience. When he spotted Seongwu, he smiled so widely his teeth gleamed in the spotlight. He winked at Seongwu and mouthed, _You lose, hyung_.

Seongwu laughed, feeling like the stage lights had suddenly turned to his direction. He cupped his hands and yelled, “Asshole!”, as loud as he could.

Daniel laughed too in answer, hand over his mouth. Seongwu couldn’t look away.

“You two are morons,” Seol murmured sidelong to Seongwu. She had a satisfied smile on her face. “What a matched set.”

“Yeah, well,” Seongwu said. He hoped he didn’t sound as winded as he felt.

Seol stood at the tips of her toes and ruffled Seongwu’s hair.

 

 

~O~

 

 

18.8 km; 2.23 km remaining

 

…

 

 

Seongwu finally arrives to Jeol-gil. This part of the town is almost barren, with only a few linden trees and washed-out single-family homes outlining the cracked roads. Some of the porch rails are already munched down by termites, and in the streets of Yeongseong, the tip of a lamppost is almost already kissing the thin asphalt.

There’s this odd pressure on his chest, like somebody is stepping and jumping on him, over and over, that it hurts to breathe. But his skin thrums with electricity, making him feel more alive than he ever has for the last three months.

It hasn’t even been a year since Seongwu left. How come, now that he’s here, everything makes him feel like he’s been gone for so long?   

He wants to laugh himself sick. Maybe leaving wasn’t a mistake, but thinking that he wouldn’t miss anything from this town was perhaps the biggest falsehood he told himself.

He pauses from walking and takes shade under the lone oak tree right beside an abandoned, fraying house. He takes a drink from a bottled water.

Seongwu mumbles, “Well. At least I’m here now.”

The birds perched on the nearby branch chirp at him mildly.

Seongwu laughs in exhaustion. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t really have a plan, thanks for asking,” he says to the birds. “I’m still coming up with one. If you have any suggestions, feel free to tell me.”

The birds don’t respond. Seongwu takes that as the universe telling him he’s on his own and sighs. He places his bottle back in his bag and carries on.

 

 

…

 

_Spring, April 2014_

 

…

 

 

“What the heck are you doing?” Minhyun bonked Seongwu’s head with his school bag as a greeting. He perched his chin on Seongwu’s shoulder, looking at Seongwu’s laptop. “What is that?”

“It’s a platform for, uhh, people like me,” Seongwu said.

“Like you?”

“Kids who want to get into a good university. Duh.”

Minhyun chuckled, standing straighter and dumping his bag next to Seongwu’s. He plonked himself on Seongwu’s bed and let out an exhausted groan. “Man, I hate being a third year,” he said. “When’s Daniel coming?”

“A bit later. He’s got practice,” Seongwu responded, clicking another forum entry with a lengthy advice from a second-year acting major in Sungkyunkwan. His nose wrinkled in displeasure when he read the words _ace the entrance exam_ and _pass the screening test_.

Minhyun laughed again, and Seongwu risked a glanced at him. “What?” Seongwu said.

“You’re pretty serious about this,” Minhyun remarked, sitting up.

Seongwu tried to detect any hint of contempt from the other boy’s voice but couldn’t; he supposed that was to be expected—Minhyun didn’t do snide. But whenever he got a question about his career path, whenever someone was about to comment on the things he wanted in his life, Seongwu’s shoulders never failed to tense up. It was a hard habit to shake off.

“Of course I am,” Seongwu said cautiously. “When have I haven’t been?”

Minhyun opened his mouth, and Seongwu said quickly, “You know what? No, don’t answer that.”

Minhyun snickered. “I’m kidding. Of course I think you’re serious. Especially when it counts.”

“Um. Thanks.”

“What did the platforms say, anyway?”

Seongwu grimaced. “That I needed to be smart, sensible, funny, charming, talented, versatile—”

“So. Not a human being, then,” Minhyun provided. “Well, if it counts, I think you’ve got all of the things down. Except for the smart and sensible part.”

“You crack me up, Hwang Minhyun-ssi.”

“There’s still time,” Minhyun placated. “If you do well on the university entrance exam, then you’ll still have a shot.”

Seongwu moaned, “Arrrgghhh! Why wasn’t I ever gifted the talent for studying? This sucks so much.” He closed his laptop and whirled himself around in his desk chair. “It definitely would’ve been nice if you’re freaking out with me, my dear friend,” he said, neck craned to Minhyun’s direction.

“No way. The stress will give me hives.”

“And you’d still have a good chunk of the female population in Hansaem following you to the ends of the world.”

Minhyun shook his head. “I think you’re talking about Kang Daniel,” he said with a smile.

“It’s the shoulders.” Seongwu placed his palms over his own and sighed. He eyed Minhyun. “I’m just saying, though. You’re pretty okay yourself. And your grades are _way_ decent than mine. You could even be an idol if you wanted to.”

“Hives, Seongwu. _Hives_ ,” Minhyun said, running a hand through his hair. “I think a local traditional arts school would suit me just fine.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Besides, you promised you’d make it far for the both of us.” Minhyun grinned. “Just do what you always do.”

“My self-confidence isn’t limitless, as much as the lot of you’d like to believe,” Seongwu mumbled.

Minhyun chucked him a pillow from the bed. It hit Seongwu’s forehead. “Keep your gaze off the ground, knucklehead,” he said. “It’s not a good look on you.”

Seongwu cuffed up the sleeves of his sweater, arming himself with the pillow. “I’ll show you good,” he said, before attacking.

When Daniel arrived at seven in the evening with a bag of chips, he laughed for a long, hard minute upon finding Seongwu’s room in a state of disarray. “This is amazing, really,” he said, eyes locked on Seongwu’s black sock hanging on the curtain pole.

Seongwu made a grab for the chips. Minhyun hit his back with one of his balled-up shirts.

Daniel burst into laughter, all the while retreating from the battlefield. “Can I take a shower for a sec, hyung?” he asked, curling his forearms under his armpits. “I really stink.”

Seongwu stood closer and sniffed. Daniel smelled like sweat, rubber, and fresh grass—an odd combination, but nothing too awful. “Yeah, sure. Your stuff’s at the cabinet, second shelf,” he said.

Daniel’s eyes crinkled even more at the corners when he grinned. Seongwu’s stomach swooped, but it was something he’d been expecting, now that he knew what to look out for.

“Thanks,” the younger boy murmured, taking his gym bag with him to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

Minhyun was suddenly at Seongwu’s side afterwards, looking over Seongwu’s shoulder at the direction Daniel had just fled.

“He definitely looks different from the kid I met back in middle school,” Minhyun observed.

“Yeah,” Seongwu said.

“You like him, don’t you? As more than just a friend.”

“What? What do you—” The stern look Minhyun gave Seongwu made the denial die down in his throat. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I think so.”

“You think so,” Minhyun repeated, amusement stark in his voice. “Well, I think so, too.”

“Am I that obvious?” Seongwu said, horrified. He closed the door swiftly behind them.

Minhyun eyebrows knitted together, tilting his chin up. “Hmm,” he mused. “Not really. It’s just that… you’ve known each other for so long—”

“You make it sound like it was inevitable,” Seongwu grumbled. Catching himself staring wistfully after Daniel’s back was something Seongwu never thought he’d do. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, thinking that nursing a crush for his childhood friend was something he should have foreseen. If others did, they could have at least warned him. 

Unrequited loves were never easy.  

“If we’re going for that argument, then I should’ve started liking you too,” Seongwu then riposted. He sat back on his chair. “And I’ve known you for far longer.”

Minhyun made a face. “I don’t think about holding your hand, though.”

“Me neither,” Seongwu replied, just as wry.

“I guess we’ve agreed on something, then,” Minhyun said. He bended down to pick up the clothes and pillows they had strewn all over the floor. “Are you planning on confessing?”

“Confess? No. No, I don’t.”

Minhyun turned, frowning at him. “Why not?”

Seongwu opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “What do you mean, ‘why not’?” The answer should had been obvious. “Daniel’s my friend.”

“That you like.”

“Yeah. But—he’s my _friend_.” At Minhyun’s bewildered expression, Seongwu added, “A guy friend.”

“Oh,” Minhyun breathed, hand on his neck. “Okay. Hmm, well. I don’t think it’s a problem, really, but if you think it’s the best…”

Seongwu’s cheeks heated up, and he busied himself with pulling out loose strings from his sweatpants. “It’s getting easier to ignore every day,” he mumbled. “Kinda.”

“Don’t say ridiculous stuff,” Minhyun said fiercely, and Seongwu looked up. “I’m sure you two will be fine.” He walked up to Seongwu’s side and bumped his fist on Seongwu’s sternum.

Seongwu let out a stilted chuckle, rubbing his arm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. And yeah, you know, you _should_ get a girlfriend of your own soon! It’s really unfair that I’m the only one getting all these crazy things happening to me.”

When Minhyun smiled, it was almost like he was beaming with pride. “Well, _you’re_ the crazy one,” he said.

 

 

…

 

 

_Summer, July 2014_

 

…

 

 

Although Seongwu was relegated as his class’s mood maker, he wasn’t a troublemaker, and everyone in 3-B was surprised when he suddenly got called down to the administration’s meeting room during lunch break. As he took the most wayward route to the admin room, Seongwu sweated buckets, frantically looking back on anything he’d done wrong as of late, and thinking up of excuses for each one.

Never in a million years had he expected to meet a scout, and to hear the words that came from the man’s mouth: _We’ve watched your shows in the last two Harvest Moon festivals, and you are just the man we’ve been looking for. We’d love to have you at Induk!_

“Oh,” Seongwu said in a daze. “But I didn’t see you in any of my shows.”

“Trust me. We were there. Incognito,” the scout said, smiling. “You were quite handsome in an eighteenth-century magistrate’s robes—you even managed to dance so powerfully in them. That was quite a sight to see.” He laughed. “Do you want to go to Induk?”

Seongwu, upon impulse, replied, “Yes."

They talked a bit more, with the school principal and Seongwu’s homeroom teacher there in the room to supervise, and the rest of the day went without a hitch. There wasn’t any indication that it’d be the decision that would cause the most change in his life. It was like any normal school day in the summer, the sky too blue and too peaceful to reflect the stir of emotions within him.

The first thing Seongwu did was text his mom, _I think I can go to a university in Seoul._

What he got in response was a call. “Seongwu, dear,” his mother began. “What do you mean by that?”

“A scout sought me out this morning,” Seongwu told her. “He offered me a spot in Induk’s Theater Arts program. It’s a university in Seoul. Not that huge, but…”

A gasp. “What? _Really_?”

“Yeah. But they’ve been getting some recruits from all over—and they got this actor Shin Hyunjoon to teach—that _Stairway to Heaven_ guy…”

“Seongwu.”

“Yes?”

“You really want to go to Seoul? For theater? Acting?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I want to do Performing for as long as I can.”

“Seongwu,” she said again. “This is really… I’m proud of you. I really am. My only son, off to Seoul for acting.” When she laughed, it came out watery. “I have a hard time wrapping myself around the idea, I admit.”

“Really.” Seongwu blinked a few times. “I also can’t believe it myself.”

“I’m not talking about you getting in a fancy city school,” she said gently. “Seoul can be a scary place.”

“Well, it’s only a recommendation,” Seongwu told her. “I still have to take the CSAT. And there’s still the rest of my third year here.”

“You’ll do more than fine,” she placated, her voice so warm and clear in his ear, that it’s almost like she’s there with him.

Seongwu sniffled and rubbed his nose roughly. He didn’t know where all this praise was coming from, all of a sudden. For some reason, it made him feel small and young again. “You know I’ll do my best, right?” he muttered.

His mother laughed. “You wouldn’t be my son if you don’t,” she said. “I love you, and I’m already proud.”

Seongwu smiled and whispered, “Thank you, Mom.”

                                 

 

…

 

 

_Winter, November 2014_

 

…

 

 

As Seongwu walked down the aisle and handed out his paper to the examiner with trembling fingers, he thought about all the things he’d been doing for the last three years that led to this. The days he spent in school, in the club, at home—all of them rolling out like sequences from an old film in his mind’s eye. He thought about the months of intensive tutoring he got from Jonghyun and Minhyun, the assorted _yeot_ and cards from well-wishers tucked in the tiniest compartment in his school bag.

It was aggravating to think that, even with all their combined efforts, it wouldn’t be enough to get him to pass. Seongwu had failed them.

The horrible feeling of frustration and helplessness didn’t abate when he went back to his seat and got his things, and it only increased as soon as he left the room and stalked down the hallways of the testing center.

“Oh, man, there was this particularly weird question in the last part of calc,” a tall boy beside Seongwu said. “The one with the super long equation. I think my answer was ten—”

“Mine too!” his friend piped.

Seongwu’s mouth twisted and he walked faster. He didn’t get ten on that question.

The harsh wind whipped at Seongwu’s face as soon as he exited the building. That day marked the start of winter—the first snowflake fell at around the time the set for English was being taken, when Seongwu had already given up trying to parse the unfairly long questions in his brain. His mother made him pack an umbrella, but he didn’t really mind walking under the cold. It helped numb some parts of him that were too keyed up from the test.

There was a hand pulling at the sleeve of his coat. In surprise, Seongwu almost decked Daniel with his umbrella.

“Daniel!” Seongwu exclaimed, stunned. “Holy crap—what was with that sneak attack? I almost hit you!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Daniel said with a small smile. “Think I might have went overboard. Sorry.” His fingers fiddled with the ends of his scarf.

Seongwu sighed. “It’s fine.” He frowned. “What are you doing here? I’m supposed to go to your place now—was there a change of plans?”

Daniel shook his head. “I was thinking we could eat out. Or we could walk back home together and buy something along the way,” he said. “You know, to celebrate.”

At that moment, Seongwu’s stomach growled.

Daniel laughed. “Guess I was right about you getting hungry,” he said. He placed a hand on Seongwu’s shoulder and steered them to the exit.

“You would be too,” Seongwu said, voice suddenly small. “Hey. You could’ve just told me to buy chicken wings or something on the way to your house. You know?”

“I just thought of it this morning. And you couldn’t bring your phone with you, right?”

Seongwu colored. “Right,” he muttered, and Daniel grinned at him.

The streets had gotten a little slippery, and so he and Daniel kept to the sides near the bushels. There weren’t a lot of students assigned to take the test in this part of the town, and so the main road wasn’t as crowded as it would be in, say, Seoul.

 _Seoul_ , Seongwu thought with a sigh.

For Induk, Seongwu only really needed to get at least fifty percent to get into the program with his recommendation. He could tell that he did so horribly, though, that he might as well pray that he’d get at least a thirty. It was his one shot to get into a good university in the capital, and he totally blew it.

“Oh no,” Daniel said. “You’re thinking too hard again, hyung. Don’t use your head right now. Aren’t you tired?”

“You’re getting quite bossy,” Seongwu observed.

“When you’re not taking care of yourself, I can be a bit.” Daniel gave him a lopsided smile. “You worked really hard today, Seongwu hyung.”

The pulse of warmth in Seongwu’s chest made him stumble a bit. “You really didn’t have to come, but thank you,” he said. His eyes prickled, and he ducked his head to hide himself from Daniel.

But Daniel wasn’t having any of that. “Ahhh, hyung~” he said, chuckling all the while. He wrapped his arms around the width of Seongwu’s upper body, leaning heavily onto the older boy and making them sway as they walked. They almost hit another student and her mother when they veered to the left.

“Sorry!” Seongwu squeaked at them.

Daniel burst into laughter before letting go.

Seongwu rubbed his eyes with his gloved fingers. “I don’t feel good about that test,” he admitted, once they were out of earshot from the rest of the students walking home.

“Was it hard?”

“Hell yeah.”

“I don’t think you did even half as badly as you felt you did.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, _really_ ,” Daniel said. Another gust of cold wind came. He adjusted his scarf to cover the lower half of his face better and sunk his hands deeply in his pockets. “You prepared really hard for this.”

“I don’t think my efforts would automatically translate to a good score, Niel,” Seongwu said, sniffling. “It’s always been like that with me, with tests.”

“Things change, hyung,” Daniel replied in a whisper. “And you can’t know if you did awful or not until they release the results.”

Seongwu looked up to the skies, letting the snow fall on his face. “S’just hard to feel optimistic about it,” he said as he watched his breath go up, then down.

Daniel slapped his shoulder. “Have some more confidence in yourself, will ya?” he chided.

Seongwu let out a choked laugh. “I don’t know if you’re mocking me or what.”

“I’m just saying it back. It was good advice,” Daniel said. He held onto Seongwu’s arm and gave it a short squeeze.

Seongwu’s heart stuttered. “I’m glad to have such a junior who listens to me,” he said, making sure he kept his voice light.

“You won’t find a junior like me anywhere, even in Seoul.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so too,” Seongwu said.

They turned to a new road. Their feet pounded at the gravel, and the contents of Seongwu’s bag rattled as it bounced against his side. Their pace slowed, and even though his stomach’s protesting, Seongwu found himself liking it, the way he could stop and stare at the snow collecting at the shallow dips of the tree branches.

“Performing…” Daniel said after a while, tone contemplative. “It’s what you really want the most, right?”

Seongwu nodded. “It doesn’t really matter where I’d do it, but Seoul’s a good stepping stone.”

“It must be.”

“Seol noona goes there too, you know? To Induk. She says it’s a really good school. Produce lots of good stage actors. It’s why I need to get in.”

“You will.”

Seongwu stopped walking because Daniel did. Seongwu gave him a quizzical look. 

Daniel inhaled deeply, and then said, “You’re a naturally gifted person, hyung. Whether it’s acting, or dancing, or singing—you always tend to do well. But you also work the hardest among us, and I don’t think we give you enough credit for that.”

Automatically, Seongwu took a step back. “What are you…”

“I’m just saying. If Seongwu hyung wants to be the best, then he would be. It’d only be a matter of time,” Daniel said slowly. “I won’t be surprised if you’ll be in Seoul next year, and neither will the rest of our friends.

“So,” Daniel went on. “Don’t be sad anymore, hyung.”

Seongwu could feel his face contorting. The tears rose so swiftly he had no time to look away. “You’re the one who’s making me sad,” he croaked. “Jeez, Niel.” He had been doing a good job of keeping his feelings at bay, but then Daniel had to stop and say something like that.

Daniel smiled. “Just thought you should know. You said I should tell you things.”

Seongwu laughed wetly, wiping his face. “Well, thanks. But not for making me cry, you jerk.”

Daniel closed the distance between them and collected Seongwu in a tight embrace. Seongwu’s insides fizzled, and a sigh left his lips as Daniel pressed his face at the crook of Seongwu’s shoulders. They were at the same height, and it struck Seongwu hard when it dawned on him how things were different from when they first met, all those years ago.

Everything was changing.

But then— “Classes in Seoul start in March, right?” Daniel said. “You should hang out with me lots until then.”

“I can’t let you hog all my time. I have other fans,” Seongwu joked as he let his arms fall.

Daniel didn’t let him go. “Ahh, well. I’m your biggest supporter, aren’t I? So, don’t you have to pay the biggest attention to me?”

Seongwu’s heart swelled with love; his chest felt heavy with it.

“That’s not how it works,” Seongwu said. “But alright.”

There was no one around but them, and so he placed his arms around Daniel again.

 

 

 

~O~

 

 

19.5 km; 1.5 km remaining

 

…

 

 

Seongwu traverses the same road he and Daniel took that day he had his university entrance exam. The place looks the same, essentially. Most of the path is still made out of gravel, the houses with tiled roofs are starting to appear as he nears the marketplace, and the sound of the wind is still loud and harsh, whistling against Seongwu’s ear. The only difference is the lack of snow and the golden trees.

Even the market hasn’t changed. A few moms and kids litter the area, but there’s no crowd around this time. Three teenagers lounge at the salad shack he and Minhyun used to frequent, chortling in unison at some unheard joke. 

Seongwu wonders if the stall that sells carp bread is open—it’s supposed to be in front of the low fence that outlined the bend in the road, just where the forest starts to converge with the village proper. Seongwu heads to that direction.

It still is, and the lady who greets him is still the same one who’s been manning it ever since it opened. She looks nothing but pleased to see him.

“It’s my other favorite customer!” the lady, Eonsun, says. “How have you been, Seongwu? How was Seoul?”

“Exciting,” Seongwu says with a huge smile. “There’re tons of people. Wherever you go, there didn’t seem to be any shortage of them. And the billboards were like— _shwoook_!” he gesticulates. “This big!”

Eonsun laughs. “Will we see your handsome face on a billboard when we visit Seoul someday?”

“You bet!”

“How much carp bread would you like?”

“Ten pieces, please!”

“I’ll make it twelve, then. My treat,” Eonsun says. “You need to eat. You’ve gotten thinner and you look tired.”

“It’s just today, don’t worry, _ajumma_ ,” Seongwu says, accepting the paper bag graciously. It smells good and is warm in his hands. “I walked a lot.”

“We’ve missed you terribly,” Eonsun says. “The festival shows aren’t the same without you. You were quite the star.”

“Ahh, well,” Seongwu laughs a bit disjointedly. “I needed to leave so I could get better. And once I am, I’ll come back and give you an even better show.” 

Eonsun’s lips curl at the corners. "How can I fault a man with such big dreams?" she says. "Don't forget us, I hope!"

"Of course I won't." Seongwu bows in goodbye.

 

 

...

 

 

_Winter, December 2014_

 

 

…

 

Seongwu was accepted into the Theater Arts program of Induk University.

His mom and sister threw him a lavish dinner party on the day he got the news. His father, who worked as a technician in a distillery in Hwacheon, worked only for half a day and drove through the beginnings of a snowstorm to celebrate with them. The cake he brought home was misshapen with most of the icing sticking to the sides of its container, but it tasted delicious all the same.

On December 9th, he took the Performing Arts club members to eat _samgyeopsal_ downtown, all sixteen of them cramped in one private booth. Everyone was in high spirits, most especially Minhyun and Jaehwan, who seemed to have had struck a partnership and made a slideshow presentation of Seongwu’s misadventures in Hansaem High.

“Look at his leg hair!” Yeolbin, one of the third-years, exclaimed with a laugh, spewing the lettuce from his mouth all over the dinner table. “Holy shit, Seongwu—have you ever thought of even shaving, man?”

Seongwu threw a napkin at his face, grinning. “Body hair’s what makes a man, you nitwit.”

“You really have no sense of shame, sunbae.” Jangmi, one of the first-years, gaped in awe when the slide showed a picture of Seongwu dancing in his gym shorts in the boy’s shower rooms.

Myunjoon chortled. “Aww, man. I remember that day—Mr. Lee called in sick and we got out of doing fifty laps around the baseball field.” He sighed. “Good times, that was.”

Seongwu froze in his seat when Minhyun showed them the next slide. It was a photo of him and Daniel at the school parking lot, taken one afternoon in the summer of last year. Seongwu was holding up a plastic bag full of fruit tarts and ice cream, and Daniel was reaching out for him, eyes squinting in mid-laughter.  

“Oh, that’s Kang Daniel, isn’t it?” Jangmi said. “He always walks home with Seongwu sunbae and Minhyun sunbae. And wow, look, I don’t think he’s ever _not_ laughing—it’s kind of cute.”

Lee Somi, a second-year, whispered, “Forget cute. He's so _handsome_.”

“They all are,” Minmi, Somi’s best friend, added.

“Dibs,” Somi said, and all of the girls giggled.

“All of the guys in Seongwu's clique are good-looking,” Myunjoon said with an aggrieved sigh. He then nudged Seongwu. “Hey, what do you say about being my new best friend?”

Jangmi snorted. "Seongwu sunbae can only do so much, Myunjoon sunbae."

The third-years laughed heartily at that.

Seongwu filled his mouth with grilled meat, swaying along the beat as the first and second-years sang the folksong, _Across the Fields of Galmuk-do_.

After the crowd had dispersed, Seongwu took Jaehwan aside and brought him to the back of the restaurant, shielded by a shed and tall clay jars filled with leeks.

"Did you take that photo?" Seongwu said. "Of me and Niel?"

"No. Minhyun sunbae did."

 _Jeez, that guy._ "I'd like to ask you busybodies to delete it."

"Why?"

Seongwu scowled at him. "It's a photo of myself. Don't you think I have a say in who gets to see it?"

"Daniel's in it too," the underclassman countered. "Let's ask him as well, shall we, sunbae? Or is it particularly him you don't want seeing that picture?"

It was like being brained by a sack full of bricks; Seongwu stammered, "It's really not much, Jaehwan, god—"

"You like him," Jaehwan went on ruthlessly. "Your eyes were all sparkly and terrible when you looked at him. But you know, it's pretty plain to see, even without that photo. I don't think deleting it would make much of a difference."

"Still, it's…” Seongwu chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I'd sleep better at night, if I know he won't see it."

"Why don't you want him to see it?"

"Because he'd find out."

Jaehwan's expression mirrored Minhyun's on that day Seongwu admitted his feelings. "Why is that bad?" Jaehwan questioned in surprise.

" _Because_ ," Seongwu said tiredly. "It'd make things awkward between us, and I don't want that."

Jaehwan stared at him like he couldn't make heads or tails of Seongwu's reasoning. He opened his mouth but no sound came out, seeming to think better of whatever he wanted to say, before sighing. "I guess that's something you two should sort out, isn't it?" he said.

"Definitely. So just _please_."

"I won't delete it. No, shut up—it _is_ a good photo, and I just so happen to be the most sentimental bastard you'd ever meet. But I promise you Niel wouldn't get a wind of it. I swear to the heavens he won’t."

Seongwu could settle with that, he supposed. "Thanks, Jaehwan."

"You're going to have to tell him sooner or later," Jaehwan said. "Why won't you tell him now? You know, sunbae, he just might..."

"It can wait," Seongwu muttered. "Besides, it's not like I'll be gone forever."

“We know that. But—”

“I think I’m supposed to choose,” Seongwu said. “And this is it.”

Jaehwan went silent.

“This is just—this is just because we’re still in high school, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll tell him when we’re already grown-ups or something. It’ll be funny to look back on,” Seongwu said with a small smile. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess I’ll tell him when I feel better.”

“You’re not sick,” Jaehwan said. “It's not some kind of sickness.”

Seongwu sighed. “Is it?” he said quietly.

“Aren't you hurting more because you're keeping this a huge secret from him?” Jaehwan shook his head. “Friends don’t keep this kind of secret from each other, I remember.”

“Maybe just this one time,” Seongwu said. “And I’ll tell him eventually.” If he ever gathered enough courage to confess, that is. “It’s fine. High school’s almost over.”

“For you. And the other sunbaes.”

“Right. So, this will be over too. Eventually.”

Jaehwan frowned. “Do you really think so?”

Seongwu laughed a little. “Keep an eye on him for me, won’t you?” he whispered.

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Jaehwan scoffed as he averted his eyes. He then leapt and swung an arm around Seongwu’s neck. “I’ll ward him away from other potential heartbreakers,” he said, sniffling hard twice.

“Keep an eye out for Minhyun too.”

“Hey! Just who do you think you are, asking me to babysit two teenagers? Am I even getting paid?” Jaehwan demanded, snickering after. He tightened his grip around Seongwu, and, when both of them lost their balance, they staggered and fell on the snowy ground. They laughed for a good five minutes.  

“Don’t be a stranger,” Jaehwan told him after they’d hauled themselves up.

Seongwu nodded and bumped his fist against Jaehwan’s shoulder.

 

 

…

 

 

It started with a dream.

“So, I was napping on someone’s house’s roof—I think it kinda looked like Ms. Han’s house, since the roof was a thatched one—”

“Ms. Han? The language teacher?”

“Yeah. Her house is just by the rice fields next to the marketplace. Anyway, so I was napping—”

“Like Rooney.”

“Right, like your cat. And then I woke up to this crow pecking my face—”

“Wait, so you woke up in real life or in your dream?”

“No, no, I was still dreaming. _Anyway_ , I was all, ‘go away, go away!’, and swatting it, but it kept on pecking my face and arms, so I went down from the roof and moved to another thatched house and napped again.”  

Daniel chuckled under his breath. “That’s some bizarre dream,” he said.

Seongwu shook his head. “That’s not even half of it.”

“S’not?”

“Yes, yes. So, I napped, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then after I woke up—in my dream—I went back to the first house. I don’t know why, maybe I just wanted to check up on it. But when I came back it was destroyed! The wreckage was all covered in black goo, like the house got hit by some black slime tsunami. Everything in the vicinity was covered in goo,” Seongwu narrated. “Apparently, there was indeed a slime monster that ransacked the whole upper village. It liked eating houses.”

Daniel laughed so hard he was almost breathless. “Alright, now that was just plain weird,” he said when he recovered. “Hyung, what the heck?”

“I can’t explain it to you even if I tried,” Seongwu said with a huge smile of his own. “When I woke up for real, I had the same reaction.”

“You know, if you think about it, it was a good thing the crow was there to warn you,” Daniel remarked. “You would’ve died in your dream if it didn’t annoy you enough to go look for someplace else to sleep in.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Seongwu thought out loud. “I owe it one.” He spared Daniel a glance. “I guess I owe you one too.”

Daniel offered him a grin. He lugged the rolled-up sleeping mat on his shoulder. “It’s nothing. You’re doing me a favor, really. Nobody’s home today.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Seongwu coughed a few times as he readjusted the straps of his carrier bag. It was digging rather sharply on his forearm. “It’s your eighteenth birthday, of all days, and I took you out shopping at the flea market. For _my_ stuff.”

“It’s the only day the bazaar’s in town,” Daniel said reasonably. “Besides.” He held out a beige shopping bag. “I bought some shit of my own as well.” He then laughed. “Quit pouting, hyung—I had fun. _Really_!”

Seongwu looked up at the stars. It was a relatively quiet night; aside from the mooing of a cow in the fields nearby, nothing much could be heard. He wondered if it was the effect of the snow, muting every blow into the softest of whimpers.

“Happy birthday, Kang Daniel,” Seongwu murmured, wishing that the snow would dull the way his voice wrapped around the name. “Thanks for spending your special day with me.”

Daniel’s smile faltered. “I’m getting whiplash,” he said. “Why are you being somber all of a sudden?”

Seongwu peeked at him through the fringes of his hair. “I was just thinking about college. Wonder how it’s like.” How terribly different it would be, from how it was at the moment—Seongwu didn’t think he’d get the chance to have nights like this with anyone, anywhere, ever again.

“Aren’t you supposed to be excited?”

“Of course I am! But you know,” Seongwu said, shrugging. “Seoul’s pretty far from here.”

Something passed over Daniel’s expression. “When are you leaving?”

“Middle of February. We have this workshop thing before classes start—oh, since classes for us third-years are technically over, I’ll be going there this Friday to check on my dorm, and. You know. Scout the area and stuff.”

“Can I come?”

“Don’t you have classes? Wouldn’t you get into trouble?”

Daniel sighed, and Seongwu hazarded a glance. With his hoodie and his gaze resolutely forward, it was hard to see Daniel’s face.

When they neared a cross in the road, Daniel spoke, turning to him, “You’re not allowed to get lonely over there, hyung.” At this angle, his eyes shone in the moonlight. “You have to make lots of friends, alright?”

Seongwu laughed quietly, warmed to the tips of his toes. “You don’t even have to tell me that.”

Daniel’s expression suddenly twisted into something pained. “You can’t forget us either,” he stressed.

“I won’t,” Seongwu said, confused. “Obviously.”

Daniel stopped walking, and Seongwu, startled, skidded to a stop as well. The younger man then gently laid the bags he was carrying on the ground.   

The way Daniel stared at him made Seongwu go inexplicably hot. "Do you have something to say to me?"

"Yeah, I do." Daniel's grip on the sleeping mat tightened. "Ong Seongwu hyung, I like you."

Daniel’s eyes steadily met Seongwu’s. For a moment, there was no sound.

_I like you._

There was only the faintest of whispers. Disoriented, Seongwu strained himself to hear it. His ears rang as blood rushed north, and then suddenly, every noise came back to full volume—

"Hyung, I like—”

"What do you mean?" Seongwu said, eyes widening. "You liking me. What does that—?"

Daniel exhaled softly. "I said I don't like you as just a friend. It's a little more different." He bit his lip. "I like _like_ you, and I wish I could show it to you."

_I like you._

It's like the arms of the clock whirled to a shrieking halt, and then restarted, without giving Seongwu any warning. Time ran in a new, quicker pace that it knocked him breathless as he tried to keep up.

Everything was changing way too fast.

Seongwu said shakily, "Since when?"

"I don't know," Daniel muttered. "It's not something you look out for, is it?"

"No, it's not," Seongwu conceded. "But do you—do you even know…  why would you tell me this?"

"So, I shouldn't have?" Daniel said. He took a step closer.

On instinct, Seongwu took a step back.

Surprise and hurt crossed over Daniel's face, plain as day. He paused for a while, and then went on, "I just realized recently. And I thought—I had to tell you. So, I shouldn’t have? Was it a mistake?"

 _Recently._ Seongwu's hands clenched into fists. He had the urge to yell, _I've liked you for longer_ , but he stopped himself. It wasn't a competition.

Recently. Daniel only figured it out recently. How long ago had that been?

(How long had Seongwu been in love with him?)

“What do you want to do with it?” Seongwu found himself saying.

“With what?”

“You—y-you liking me.”

"Whatever you want," Daniel mumbled.

Seongwu took a step even further back. "Your feelings," he said slowly. "Are not my responsibility."

Daniel looked stricken. "No, of course not! What I'm trying to say is—"

"It's still up to me to decide." Seongwu laughed, high and almost gasping. "Right."

"Hyung—"

“What is it that you want from me?” Seongwu demanded. “You tell me you like me, all of a sudden, even though I have to leave—you tell me you like me, but you’ll be here and I’ll be all the way out there. By myself. And then you’re handing me all the cards!” Seongwu’s voice shook and his mind reeled. He was supposed to be _happy_ , but he couldn’t find the emotion in him anywhere. All he felt was a complicated mess of disbelief, sadness, regret—

_Panic._

Seongwu couldn’t help but think of an empty playground, of his first year in high school, and a human-shaped hole beside him, so empty and dark. He recalled being with someone else, and how the entire time it felt horribly, entirely wrong.

Seongwu remembered loneliness, and how much it ached.

He blinked hard and fast. “You confessing is nothing, right?” Seongwu whispered. “You weren’t expecting anything from this, just wanted to get this off your chest—"

“You’re right, it’s selfish of me,” Daniel cut him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I just wanted to tell you. I just…” Seongwu saw Daniel’s face scrunching up before he averted his gaze. “I don’t want to say goodbye, because it doesn’t feel right. So, I’m saying I like you, and that I hope you’ll always remember.”

Straightforward. Uncomplicated. That’s how Kang Daniel had always been. Seongwu had never known him to be cruel, but truth and honesty could be. And Daniel was someone who didn’t lie.

Things that started in high school were supposed to end in high school. First loves weren’t supposed to last.

_Seoul was supposed to make me forget._

(But now, Seongwu had no choice but to remember.)

After the long silence, Daniel said, “Can I ask you one last thing?”

The wind picked up, and snow fell.

“Seongwu hyung, do you like me?”

The thundering of Seongwu’s heart threatened to give him away, but the snow kept on falling, blanketing them.

Everything could be masked by the snow. Hidden, until it would fade.

Forgotten.

 _Please_ , Seongwu thought, shutting his eyes tight. _Let it end._

“No.”

 

…

 

 

_I was born on December 10th, almost midnight—_

_You know what this means, right? I can go to school together with you and Minhyun-ssi—_

_I just wanted us to be happy together always. Was that so bad—_

_Don’t be sad anymore, hyung—_

_I like you—_

 

_Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?_

 

 

Trembling, Seongwu pressed the pillow hard against his ear.


	5. a two-way street

~O~

 

 

20.1 km; 900 m remaining

 

…

 

 

From this high up the hill, Seongwu can spot the playground. It’s more than rundown—the spinner merry-go-round has toppled to one side; one half of the seesaw has broken apart from its fulcrum; and the slide’s ladder is missing everything but the last two of its rungs. The swing set is gone. The copper beech tree has lost most of its leaves.

He hasn’t been there ever since the day he left for Seoul, sitting at the tail-end of the slide and wishing that, by the time he comes back, everything would be back to the way it was before he made a mess of it all.

It doesn’t look like he got his wish.

He wonders if Daniel still visits.

Beyond the playground, the distant expanse of the fields glows faintly. With winter upon them, the vegetation lay flat and desolate. Just ahead the rice paddies, Seongwu can spot a familiar set of alleyways and terraced houses. Amongst them must be Seongwu’s home.  

As he gazes at the sun moving westward, Seongwu imagines himself never leaving Jeol-gil.

But then he remembers, remembers where he’s at and what he’s supposed to do, and he starts walking again.

 

 

…

 

 

_Spring, April 2015_

 

 

…

 

 

One night, Seongwu went to a bar his friends in the theater department frequent. Lee Taehwan, another theater major who had three classes with Seongwu in the first semester, invited him to come. It was his first time in a bar, and he kept that knowledge under wraps so that the other students wouldn’t tease him again for being their class’s resident country bumpkin.

Aside from the theater majors, the crowd was composed of young office workers and people Seongwu recognized as students who also go to his university. Green and pink neon beams shot from the ceiling lights. Everyone was either high on high or sobbing uncontrollably over their beer bottles. Seongwu didn’t know where he fit in that spectrum.

Yoon Jisung, one of Seongwu’s sunbaes and closest friends in the department, slung his arm over Seongwu’s slacking shoulders. “You okay, Ong-chongie?” he exclaimed over the loud music. His purple-dyed hair blended well with the lights.

“No problem, hyung!” Seongwu yelled at Jisung’s ear. “Where’s Taehwan-ssi? I haven’t given him his present yet!”

“Having the time of his life with a cute girl!” Jisung shouted back with a laugh. “Might take a while.” He held up a bottle of _soju_ , his wide grin brightening his face. “You want a drink?”

Seongwu took the bottle and drank. He finished the whole thing in five, large gulps. He then coughed violently.

“Oh my god!” Jisung exclaimed, rubbing Seongwu’s back. “What did you think that was, water? Holy shit, take it easy!” He laughed as he helped Seongwu regain his bearings. “We don’t want you dying before you reel in a nice girl, do we?”

Seongwu wiped the edge of his mouth with the back of his arm. His throat ached, and the lights suddenly became brighter than it was when he first came.

“Rookie mistake,” Jisung said with a grin. He slapped Seongwu’s shoulder. “Come on, come on. There we go. Follow me, my crazy, precious hoobae! Let’s get you to a place where you won’t get squished by all these yuppies.”

Along with the members of the theater department, Taehwan brought the school’s soccer team with him. Seongwu should’ve suspected that, with Taehwan being the vice-captain, but he’s surprised all the same, even more that he held his twentieth birthday party in a bar. Taehwan wasn’t much for large, rowdy crowds, and wasn’t exactly noisy himself. Perhaps it’s just how people celebrate in college.

All five tables were occupied by either athletes or theater majors, and there were about six buckets of tubed ice that Seongwu’s sure used to also contain bottles of Hite.

“Hiya, Seongwu!” Kang Taeoh, a psychology sophomore and the team’s captain, greeted. He’s terribly drunk. “How are you—” He halted. “ _Damn_ , Seongwu. Your eyes are really red.”

“Your neck is too,” Seongwu replied as Jisung guided him to his seat. “Did you pick a fight with a vacuum cleaner and lost?”

Some people on the soccer team who overheard the exchange snickered.

Taeoh smiled. “You could say that,” he said easily. He turned to Jisung. “What happened to him? It’s way too early.”

“Swilled a bottle of _soju_ in one breath,” Jisung informed Taeoh, fondness leaking in his voice. “Kid’s definitely out of his mind.”

“Fucking crazy ass,” Taeoh agreed.

“Drink this first, Seongwu-ssi.” Minjae, one of the theater upperclassmen, slid him a bottle of water. “When you feel you’re well enough, you can get yourself a shot.”

Seongwu nodded. “Thanks, Minjae sunbae.” He downed the water quickly as he had with the _soju_ earlier.

“Is Kim Seol-ssi coming?” Park Seungki, another player for the soccer team said.

“Maybe later. She’s with Eunhee, and you know how late she comes to parties,” Han Sanggyu, a first-year theater major, answered. “Why? You want to do some vacuum cleaning with her too?”

Seungki ignored him. “Hey, she’s single, isn’t she?” he shouted over to Seongwu. “Does she have anyone waiting for her in your hometown?”

“She has tons of rabid fans in Jeol!” Seongwu said. “She’s really popular. And her dad’s a _ssrireum_ champion—you’d have to clear five matches with him _and_ break your pelvis before you even get to have the first five digits of her phone number.”

“You bastard,” Seungki said in delight. “ _Ssrireum_ champion, my ass. Are you fucking with me?”

Seongwu grinned as he shook his head. “Never would.” He set aside the empty bottle of water and, when the next round of beers came, drank three more bottles.

After a while, his brain started beating against his skull, and his stomach felt like it was being stretched to its limit. A fight broke out at the second floor, and his eyesight turned blurry enough that he couldn’t tell whether the couple standing a few feet from their table were making out or strangling each other.

He hadn’t seen Taehwan yet, but he thought it might be best for him to leave.

Seongwu scrambled out of the table, grateful that Jisung didn’t seem to notice him wobbling around as he left. He passed by the speakers, and the music pounded in his ears, so much so that he staggered and tripped on the cords. The air in the bar scorched his skin.

The exit seemed far away, so Seongwu gave up. He took a seat on one of the low, circular tables and pressed his forehead firmly on the metal rim. He breathed through his mouth, loudly, and waited for himself to pass out.

“Hey,” a far-away voice said. “You okay? You’re in my spot, but it’s fine, I guess.”

Seongwu groaned and turned to his left. He opened one eye.

A girl stared at him, a beer in hand. She had a strong nose, a delicate mouth, and cropped obsidian black hair. Her eyes were large, fringed with thick, dark eyelashes, and she stared as she took in Seongwu’s inebriated state.

Seongwu then let both of his eyes open and blinked twice.

“Is everything okay?” the girl questioned again. Her voice was at an incredibly low register, rough with disuse.

“Hi,” Seongwu said, tongue loose. “You’re really pretty.”

The girl seemed taken aback at that comment, and afterwards she laughed. She took the empty seat next to him.

It hurt to look at her—one of the strobe lights was flashing directly behind her, so Seongwu closed his eyes again.

“Underclassman, huh?” the girl said right at his ear. She leaned so close to him that her breath felt hot against Seongwu’s cheek. “Or just someone who doesn’t hang around here that much?”

“Probably both,” Seongwu said tinily.

The girl hummed. Even with just a moment’s glimpse of her, Seongwu could already imagine her features forming an amused look. She’s really beautiful.

Seongwu sighed inwardly. What’s wrong with him?

“I’m not with anyone right now, honestly,” the girl mumbled. “Came alone.”

Seongwu bobbed his head. A sharp spike of pain shot to the roots of his hair, and he winced. “I could tell.” He huffed. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you company.”

The girl laughed, this time a lot more self-deprecatingly than the last. “My boyfriend broke up with me this week.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“Extremely.”

“Should I beat him up for you?”

The girl chuckled. “No, that’s fine. I still like him. You broke up with your girlfriend?”

“No, nothing like that,” Seongwu whispered to her. “I came for a birthday party.”

“Whose birthday is it?”

“I forgot.”

The girl chuckled. “Get some rest, tough guy. I’ll get you a cab or something.”

Seongwu’s head throbbed harder, and his fingers shook. “You’re really pretty,” he repeated.

“And you’re very handsome.”

“Thanks."

“You don’t want to kiss me?”

Another sigh. “No,” he admitted.

“Oh.” The girl sounded regretful. “Can I hold your hand instead? I’m sorry, I feel really lonely tonight.”

Seongwu laughed under his breath. “S’no problem at all.” If there’s anyone who did deserve to feel lonely at the moment, it’s definitely not her. He held out his palm while he kept his forehead pressed flat on the table.

Silence fell between them for a while. Then, fingers started to lace in between the spaces of Seongwu’s, a smooth palm against his.

“I hope you’ll feel better tomorrow,” the girl said.

He honestly doubted that, with everything he did tonight, but he didn’t have energy in him to answer her properly. He settled with squeezing her hand in false reassurance.

It’s nothing short of embarrassing, ducking out of his friend’s birthday celebration and holding hands with a kind, pretty senior, all the while wishing it was someone else. Seongwu had reached a new low.

He blacked out soon after.

 

 

…

 

_Spring, May 2015_

…

 

 

The apartment was cold.

Seongwu found it weird that the weather remained awfully chilly, despite it being late spring already. It was a miracle the heating system still worked; it was an old, decrepit thing that took around almost a month to figure out how to operate without the manual around. He thought he had broken the boiler at some point, with all his random button pressing on the thermostat.  

It’s Sunday. Seongwu’s lying flat on his belly on the bed, stomach growling. He ignored it. He didn’t want to get up to cook a meal for himself or take his phone out from his bag on the desk to order out. He’s tired. He’d been tired all week. Tired for the entire month.

 _Are you even getting any of this?_ was Jaehwan’s text last night. Seongwu didn’t even wince when he read it in the morning; he exited the LINE app without replying to any of his messages and stuffed the phone deep in his bag.

He’s exhausted.

_(Hyung, hey. Sorry for messaging you this late… and out of the blue… Just wanted you to know I might be applying for a university in Busan. I thought it would be good and my parents think so too… Do you think it’s okay?)_

Seongwu retreated more into the covers.

There were cats playing on the roof—clanging noises could be heard from the vent pipe, which he supposed came from the rain gutters. Seongwu knew two of the neighborhood cats personally, having met them lazing on his doormat the day he moved in back in late February.

After a quick search on the internet, he decided to call the tabby cats Colin and Chloe. Just innocuous-sounding names.

Seongwu’s bad at naming things. Most of all, he’s bad at missing people.

 

 

…

 

 

 

_Summer, August 2015_

 

…

 

 

“That went well.”

Seongwu sighed. “That must be something else, huh?”

Seol snorted. She crouched down and tied her shoelaces into a neat bow. “Not really. Nothing would ever top your freezing up on stage in your first year at the festival.” She _tsk_ -ed at Seongwu’s messy knot and proceeded to tie them herself. “You even got the audience worrying you were going to pee yourself.”

“Good times.”

Seol gave him a crooked grin. “Just don’t zone out again at rehearsals or Aeri seonsaeng-nim will have your head,” she said, re-tying the knot on Seongwu’s left shoe.

“It’s just one time. It won’t happen again,” Seongwu promised.

Seol stood to her full height and eyed Seongwu critically. “I think I know what you’re losing sleep about,” she said sagely. “You and Kang Daniel have been fighting?”

Seongwu surveyed the backstage for any possible eavesdroppers, before whispering indignantly to Seol, “Noona and the guys back home have been talking? About me?”

“Your best friend is a huge gossip,” Seol said with a laugh. “And he wanted me to keep tabs on you.”

“Just in case I do something stupid? I’m not some volatile teenager, jeez,” Seongwu said, affronted. He braced his arms on the tread of the staircase prop.

“You’re being unnecessarily defensive,” Seol pointed out, patting Seongwu’s thighs. She sat next to him. “Damn, it’s hot,” she said under her breath, fanning herself.

Seongwu hid his face from her with his hair, which had gotten so long and unkempt. He badly needed a haircut, he thought. “Right. Sorry, noona,” he said.

“Minhyun actually didn’t tell me anything,” Seol said. “Just that you and Daniel hardly talked to each other in your last months in high school. I have to say I found that strange, too. You don’t talk to each other right now, either?”

“No.”

“Not even a text?”

Seongwu shook his head. “We had one conversation, but it felt awkward.”

“Huh. So, you guys _really_ fought? I thought that was impossible… Oh, wait. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to—”

“I’m not sure if it was a fight, exactly…” Seongwu trailed off, not knowing whether it was okay to tell Seol about anything Daniel said that night. Was it something Daniel didn’t want anyone else to know, the way Seongwu did? He peeked at his sunbae through his fringe. “I guess it is. Kinda. But it’s kind of hard to explain—”

“Without revealing any details.” The knowing smile on Seol’s face grew.

Seongwu stared at her. “Niel told me that he liked me.” He coughed, ears reddening. “Not in a friendly way.”

Seol frowned. “Oh,” she hummed. “I see what you mean.”

“You do?”

“Well, you have been friends for a long time,” Seol said, shrugging. “It’s kind of hard to be anything else.”

“Right!” Seongwu said. _Finally_ , someone who got him.

“And you’re all the way here in Seoul. You won’t see each other every day like you did back in high school.”

“That’s what I was thinking exactly!”

“I haven’t heard of long distance relationships that lasted for more than two years. It’s almost unthinkable.”

“Right, right!”

“Ah-hah, so you _do_ like Daniel!”

Seongwu paused, and then his brain caught up to her words. “You’re good,” he said, laughing tensely afterwards.

“Don’t hate the player.” Seol winked, slugging him.

“In my defense, he said he didn’t want to do anything,” Seongwu muttered. “Said it was up to me to decide.”

“Of course he would, stupid. You didn’t exactly tell him you liked him back, did you?”

Seongwu scratched his nape, then his elbow. “I… I wasn’t sure if I could,” he said truthfully. “You know?”

Seol removed her arm from Seongwu’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, I get you,” she drawled. “Been twiddling your thumbs for way too long and watching out for the worst—you just get used to it.”

“Well, there’s _that_. But…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know if I could explain it well, noona. Daniel’s a great guy. He’s a great friend.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s just…” Seongwu bit his lip. “He’s always been _there_. So, what if—what if…”

Seol sighed faintly. “You gotta give the guy more credit. He did confess to you, despite the terrible mess that you are.” She chuckled. “Being in love doesn’t mean you’re going to lose something. Lose his friendship. I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I guess.”

“You’re important to him. I think that’s why he said something before you left.”

“Right.”

“And he’s important to you too. Yet you didn’t say anything and ran off.”

“I don’t want to get hurt,” Seongwu said, voice small. “And… if he really does like me, I don’t want him to get hurt either.”

Seol nodded again, staying silent, like she’s waiting for something.

Seongwu bared his heart one more time: “It’s always been easy with him.”

“And now things are hard,” Seol said. “Are you going to give up?”

Seongwu quieted.

“You miss him. Daniel misses you too, of course,” Seol said. “It’ll be a long time before you get used to it.”

Seongwu exhaled. “From what I’ve read in your books, it’s a process,” he said wryly.

Seol laughed. “I’m glad they were of some help to you, then.”

“Yeah.”

After a minute of silence had passed, Seol said, “There’s a very pretty girl who spoke to you before rehearsals started. The one with the short, black hair. She seems like a great girl.”

“She does seem nice,” Seongwu agreed.

Seol gave him a long look, before laughing. “I’m glad you think she is.” She rumpled Seongwu’s hair.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

At nights, Seongwu would dream of being in Daniel’s room again. 

Some nights, he saw himself in the playground on a late afternoon. Other times, he’s standing in the hallways of Hansaem. But more often than not, Seongwu would dream of being in Daniel’s room at night, alone. He didn’t know exactly why it happened, and after a while, Seongwu gave up making sense of any of his dreams. He asked Jisung once, since the senior took psychology classes as his general education courses, and Seongwu had been told that dreams would only gain meaning, if he gave it one.

It seemed like the exhaustion he felt during the day would always seep to his unconscious: Seongwu would dream of lying on the wide, carpeted floor, watching the moon rising from the window and waiting until he fell asleep.

Other nights, when rehearsals had sapped most of his strength and energy, when there’s a distant buzz in his head that he couldn’t shake off, when he’d allow himself to be selfish, he’d dream of sleeping on Daniel’s bed. He’d press his face on Daniel’s pillow, take long, deep breaths and let his lungs burn. He’d hear a ghost of a laugh, right next to his ear, and allow himself to grieve for what he’d lost.

During those times, he’d grant his tired mind the smallest of reprieves and give it space to wander. He’d let himself feel homesick, enable the sting of loneliness peak to its threshold, and wait until it dulled into a faint ache. He’d make a script in his head of the things he wanted to say on the phone: how his day had been, how much the city had been pushing him to greater heights, how much he missed his mother’s cooking. He’d marvel at how much things had changed but hadn’t really ended, of how much his love had grown almost without him noticing, even when the people in question were kilometers apart. He’d think of that cold night in December and imagine himself telling the truth.

He’d admit to himself that it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much if he hadn’t lied.

But because regrets are only felt when the moment has passed, and because secrets are meant to be told during wakefulness, Seongwu could only sigh in surrender and wait until the moonlight ceased to appear. When he’d wake up to another day in his own apartment, he’d make these feelings he carried become unknown again.

 

 

 

~O~

 

 

20.9 km; 100 m remaining

 

…

 

 

 

Seongwu only has to take approximately a hundred and fifty-seven steps to get to Daniel’s home.

Feeling childish, he hides behind a nearby oak tree and peeps, pondering whether or not Daniel could sense his nervousness all the way from where he stands. He wonders if Daniel got tired of waiting and has fallen asleep.

Seongwu takes out his phone and opens his camera. He tries to flatten his hair with his fingers, and he cringes at the feeling—dust has clung to the strands. He looks tired and hideous. He pockets his phone in resignation.

He stares up at the sky—it now looked different from what it was this morning back in the bus terminal in Chuncheon. The low-level flat clouds that had spread out in the horizon has turned into the thick, sunlit clouds, and the sky became evenly split into dark blue and pale orange colors.

Seongwu has covered almost twenty-one kilometers and walked for eleven hours and eighteen minutes. A hundred and almost sixty steps left, and he’ll see Daniel again. He can’t believe it.

What will they talk about? Will it still be the same?

 _Things change_ , Daniel had said to him. If it really did, then by how much?

Seongwu steps out from under the tree and takes the last hundred steps, heart thumping hard and fast against his chest. After he gets past the last step on the front porch, he stands so still in front of the door.

Everything feels so nostalgic and familiar that it makes him dread and hope.

“Whatever the distance,” Seongwu says under his breath.

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

 

 

…

_Fall, September 2015_

 

…

 

 

“There are so many cars—”

“Yes.”

“And the _smog_! Are you sure you can still breathe while walking around here, son—?”

Seongwu laughed. “Yes, Dad. Look at me! Do I seem like I’m going to get sick any time soon? With all the ginseng Mom’s been sending me…”

Seongwu’s father bobbed his head in satisfaction. “You’re looking thinner,” he said. “But I guess… you seem to be doing well.”

Seongwu shook his head and patted his father on the arm. “Of course I am,” he answered with a laugh. “Besides, who did I take after?”

He’s gifted by a cheered smile from his dad.

Seongwu guided his father to the entrance of a barbeque restaurant Jisung suggested to him. Three days ago, after getting a message from his dad, Seongwu called Jisung in a fit of panic. He had been expecting either his mom or Seongmin to come visit him in Nowon first. Seongwu had the faintest clue what his dad would want to do in the city. 

It’d been a while since Seongwu and his dad got together. Because of work, his father only went home to Jeol-gil during family events. Seongwu sort of missed being able to talk to him freely: he and Seongwu shared the same sense of humor, and there never had been a dull moment between them, back when he was young. It’s such a shame that Seongwu rarely saw of him as he grew older.

A smiling waitress welcomed them. “Table for how many?”

“Two, please.” Seongwu turned to Father. “Do you want to drink?”

“I would if you would,” Father said as they got directed to a table at the back.

Seongwu thought about it. “Let’s not. Let’s enjoy the food today. My sunbae said they have the best _galbi_ in this district. It’s hard to find good barbeque restaurants here in Nowon that aren’t so expensive to dine in.”

After the waitress got their orders, his father smiled wryly and said, “I wouldn’t have guessed. And I couldn’t help but notice how we passed by five _hagwons_ before we got to this place—do people here eat textbooks instead?”

“They answer practice tests for breakfast. And they have flashcards for dinner.”

“Did you see that lady running around in a tracksuit while she had a steaming cup of coffee in her hand?” Father said in awe as he imitated the action with his hands, and Seongwu burst into laughter. “I wanted to ask her if she was feeling well. And she looked around the same age as I!”

“What if we lived in Seoul, Dad?” Seongwu pondered. “Can you imagine Mom in a tracksuit?”

“I could, but she’d trip on her suit pants before she even got through the front door,” Father said solemnly. “ _That_ you take after her.”

Their food arrived in that instant. Silence descended on their table for a few minutes as they ate their meal heartily. When Seongwu had finished his third serving of pork belly, his dad asked, “How is school, Seongwu?”

“I don’t think I’m doing so bad. I got a B in college math for the first semester,” Seongwu said with his chopsticks raised halfway to his mouth, unbelieving. “But I got a C in everything else that wasn’t a core subject or a literature class. I must’ve focused on not failing math so much I did terribly on other subjects.” 

“But performing… are you having fun?”

“Yes, of course.”

His dad nodded. “That’s good to hear.” He placed the _kimchi_ and _galbi_ atop his bowl of _tak toritang_ , mixing them together with his chopsticks _._

“You really don’t have to worry about me,” Seongwu insisted. “It’s not like I’m lacking in sense or anything.”

“Oh, I wasn’t saying that! Objectively speaking, I know I don’t have to. But as a parent, I do worry.”  

Seongwu feigned a vexed expression and continued chewing on a piece of grilled pork.

“Ahh, what am I saying?” His father smiled broadly. “You took care of your mother and your sister while I was away—perhaps my concerns are misplaced.”

“Took care?” Seongwu said, confused. He hadn’t exactly helped out in chores, too busy with club activities and school work.

“You know how the women in our family are. Especially your mother,” his father explained. “I think the frown lines on her forehead stopped growing ever since you could talk and walk.”

“Ahh, well…”

“It eases some burden of working away from home. Knowing that you’re there to lift your mother and your sister’s spirits up.”

Seongwu nibbled on his lower lip and chuckled. “I just did what I thought you would do,” he said. “And what Granpa Im would.”

His father laughed. “My son, you give me far too much credit.”

“No, I’m not.”

His father’s smile turned into a sad one. “Maybe I really should worry about your mother. Her daughter is working in Yongsang while you’re here in Nowon. It’s an empty nest.”

“You should,” Seongwu assented. “Why don’t you quit your job and be with her in Jeol? I mean, Seongmin noona already has a stable job, and you know I can fend for myself—”

“When you finish university, maybe. For now, I’ll continue working. I don’t think it’s time. Both of us do.”

Seongwu detected the firmness in the elder’s tone; he let it go immediately.

“I’ve always wondered…” Seongwu began tentatively. “How do you and Mom make it work? I know it’s hard, but…”

“It really goddamn is!” Father exclaimed with a chortle. He drank his juice before saying, in a much softer voice, “But like I said, you know how your mother is… I remember one time when we were dating. She took so much time buying fish and scallops in the marketplace her mother got angry with me, thinking I brought her to some place for a detour.”

He laughed again, shoulders quaking. “She just has to be sure, all the time! That’s just how she is. I’m sure it must be awkward for you to hear this, but Sungyeong’s very certain that I care for her just as much as she does for me. The amount of thought and trust she always gave me… that is, I have to say, pretty humbling. She won’t fear anything, and neither will I.”

“But Hwacheon is kind of far. Not as far as Seoul, but…”

“Love is love, whatever the distance,” his father said. “If you can make your love exist wherever the person is, all those kilometers between the two of you mean nothing.”

Seongwu settled with staring at his lap as he said, “That sounded really cheesy, Dad.”

“It comes with age,” the older man proclaimed. “You think I haven’t waited for you to ask for that kind of advice from me? Your sister’s more daring than you are.”

Seongwu looked up and grinned. “I can smell favoritism,” he joked.

“Are you coming home for the festival? Your sister is. Says she’s taking a week leave.”

“I’m not sure. If I’m free, then I will.”

“The neighborhood kid asks of you. Minhyun-ssi, was it?”

Seongwu sighed dramatically. “Minhyun’s mellow mind needs excitement once in a while,” he divulged.

Father laughed. “Must be, must be.” He then stood up from his seat and wiped the sweet and sour sauce off of Seongwu’s cheek. “ _Aigoo_! So messy. Now hurry up and finish all the meat! I want to go see that tower all the workers in the factory always talked about.”

 

 

~O~

 

 

21 km; 0 km remaining 

 

 

…

 

 

The door opens.

“Hyung?”

Seongwu fidgets. “Hi.”

“Oh my god.” Daniel blinks before rubbing his eyes. He speaks slowly and softly—he must have just woken up from a nap. “Are you okay? You look like you got left behind by the bus and trekked all the way here.”

That’s close enough. “It’s a long story,” Seongwu says.

“I got time,” Daniel mumbles and opens the door even wider. He steps aside and waits for Seongwu to come in.

Seongwu is floored; he gets that weird feeling again, like he wants to cry, but not in a sad way.

He’s here. Seongwu is finally here.

“Daniel.” Seongwu chews on the inside of his cheek. “Kang Euigeon.”

Daniel’s eyes widen. “Yeah?” he says.

A knot in Seongwu’s chest loosens. _Whatever the distance._ “I have something to tell you.”

  


	6. Epilogue: you grew, and i let you change me

~O~

 

 

0 km; ∞ remaining

 

…

 

 

Daniel wakes up with a headache and to a text message: _Can I come by to see you later?_

It’s from Seongwu. Groggily, Daniel replies, _Later? When is later?_

 _Today,_ the answer reads. _Late afternoon okay?_

 _No problem._ Daniel yawns, scratching his tummy. He tosses his phone on the nightstand and crawls back under the covers.

 

 

…

 

 

It’s not until when he wakes up two hours later and rereads the first conversation he’s had with Seongwu for months does he get what this all means.

“Oh my god,” Daniel whispers to himself. He looks at his unmade bed, his cabinet, his desk, the ceiling. “Oh my god.”

He hurries to the kitchen, hoping that some food and paracetamol in his system will make him think more clearly.

He’s standing on his toes and reaching for the Kellogg’s on the top shelf of the cupboard when Hyeja appears, looking matronly in her blue floral dress. She glances at Daniel and at the empty bowls that used to contain _doenjang jjigae,_ steamed rice and roasted fish.

“I see I should’ve cooked more today,” she says. “Do you want me to make you an omelet?”

“Oh no, please, this is fine,” Daniel says, throwing in milk in his cereal. “I’m just really hungry today.”

Hyeja laughs quietly. “It’s only nine o’clock. I was sure you’d sleep in since it’s Saturday.”

Daniel thought so, too. “Seongwu hyung’s coming for a visit.”

Hyeja’s expression morphs into an excited one. “Oh, is he? It’s been so long—how is he doing?”

“He seems fine.” Daniel’s answering chuckle sounds stilted. “I’ll know later for sure when he arrives.”

“When?”

“This afternoon. Maybe around five or six.”

“Ahh, that’s a shame,” Hyeja says mournfully. “I was hoping I could get to see him again. Such a bright kid. Just seeing him makes me and the other old ladies smile.”

Daniel silently agrees; he knows the feeling. “You have church services later, right?”

Hyeja nods. “Tell him I send my sweetest regards, Euigeon-ie.”

Daniel grins as he watches her exit the room. “When am I going to have you call me ‘Daniel’, _ajumma_?” he says.

“It’s still your given name, isn’t it?” she calls. “And I like how it sounds much, much better!”

 

…

 

By the time noon comes, Daniel’s already exhausted everything he knows should have kept his mind occupied: he did his homework, did five hundred push-ups, showered, cleaned his room, then showered again. He surfed the net for a while and watched dance practice videos of idol groups he liked, but he kept on going back to his inbox that, by the third time he caught himself checking again, he had enough with himself and resolved to tuck his phone under his pillow.

He presses the side of his face on the duvet and sighs. He stares at the wall clock. It’s now 12:05 pm. What other pointless activity shall he do?

“Meow.”

Daniel peers down on his feet and sees Rooney climbing on his bed and butting her head against his pant leg.

“Hi there, chum,” Daniel murmurs to her, adjusting his position so he could face her. He scratches her neck—the spot he knows she likes best—and she purrs. “You hungry already? Sorry, the vet said I could only feed you twice a day so you won’t get fat…”

In response, Rooney lays down on the duvet and bares her underside. She meows again.

Daniel chuckles. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “You’re cute, you’re _very_ cute. But I still can’t feed you right now.”

She lays back on her tummy again and licks her fur.

Daniel scratches her ear. “Hmm… maybe it’s best if I go outside. Maybe I should run—it’s warm enough,” he says. “What about it?”

Rooney gives him an unimpressed look.

“Yeah, yeah.” Daniel licks his lips before sighing. “I’m wasting all the hot water in this place. What should I do then?”

Rooney curls beside him and sleeps.

Daniel runs a hand through his hair as he watches her. He feels a slight drowsiness from the medicine he took, from his wet hair soothing the back of his neck, but napping doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.

He glances at the window—the weather seems great today. Perhaps it’s a good idea to go out, walk aimlessly around the hillside, see where his feet will take him. Maybe he won’t feel as restless by the time he decides to come home.

He mumbles a goodbye to Rooney, dresses into pants with deeper pockets so he can stuff his wallet and his phone inside and puts on a jacket. He gets the spare copy of the house key dangling at the peg behind the front door. Geunhi, one of maids, spots him tying his shoelaces and asks him where he’s going.

“Somewhere,” Daniel says. “Just taking a walk.”

“Ahh! Don’t go too far or stray from the path—the forest isn’t a good place to wander around this time of the year.”

“I won’t.”

Geunhi smacks her lips, remembering, “I heard your friend will be coming over this afternoon! Shall we cook dinner for the two of you before we leave?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s—” Daniel halts. “On second thought, can you make two bowls of _naengmyeon_ , please?

“With both having runny eggs on top?”

Daniel grins. “You’re a star, noona.”

Geunhi laughs merrily. “Hope you two have fun catching up. It’s been way too long.” She waves him goodbye.

Daniel looks at his wristwatch. It’s 12:27. The day is long.

It’s a fairly clear day, with the sunlight piercing through the few, thin clouds that gathered across the sky. The air feels cool and dry. Daniel follows the path, which slopes slightly when he gets past the series of oak and linden trees. The golden leaves that were shed have mostly pooled at the sides of the trail, but some of them clutter across the path, and they crackle under Daniel’s feet as he passes. Everything smells earthy and cidery.

_Can I come by to see you later?_

Daniel frowns, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket. What does that mean?

He continues strolling, focusing all of his energy in keeping his mind safely blank. It’s no surprise that, after almost an hour of walking thoughtlessly, he ends up on the playground at the foot of the hill.

Not knowing what else he can do, Daniel sits at the end of the slide.

Now that he’s here, his brain can’t help but play back to the events of last year, where everything went horribly wrong.

What would’ve happened, if Daniel hadn't said anything?

Would it have been better if he hadn’t confessed?

Daniel thinks for a minute, before shaking his head to himself. It _was_ the right thing to do—it would’ve been maddening to keep something so huge from his friend of thirteen years. Daniel never really liked talking about his feelings, but he hates the thought that he’d been deceiving someone even more.

Seongwu’s on his way here, and Daniel doesn’t know what he should say to make everything right again.

Daniel closes his eyes tightly and pictures himself and Seongwu sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, two bowls of _naengmyeon_ separating them. He imagines Seongwu smiling patiently at him.

 _I’m sorry_ , Daniel tries first.

_I’m sorry, Seongwu hyung. Please, don’t ignore me anymore—_

_Please stay—_

_I love you, and I can’t really seem to stop—_

_Can we be friends again?_  

Daniel opens his eyes. He doesn’t dare imagine what Seongwu would look like if he said any of the first four. He settles with the last thought as his final attempt.

He spends another hour on the dilapidated playground, allowing himself to reminisce and wonder about the many _what if_ s, before heading out and walking home.

 

 

…

 

 

When Seongwu says, “Kang Euigeon”, Daniel is jerked to wakefulness, heart stuttering to a stop.

“Yeah?” Daniel manages when his heartbeat restarts.

“I have something to tell you,” Seongwu says.

Daniel has to press his hands firmly against his sides. _I have something to say too,_ he thinks. He wants to hold Seongwu by the shoulders and kiss him.

He gives Seongwu a wide berth. “Do you want to head to my room first? Take a shower? The noonas made us food! I’ll bring it there!” he yells as he retreats to the kitchen.

“Need any help?”

“No, it’s fine!” he shouts. “Get some rest, hyung! You look really beat!” He dashes away.

 _Fuck._  Daniel runs a jittery hand through his hair many times. _Fuck._

When he takes the  _naengmyeon_  bowls on the table, his fingers slip. The crash echoes across the empty halls.

"Fuck," Daniel says again emphatically. He searches the kitchen for a mop.

Seongwu's head pokes out from the doorway. Tucked under Seongwu’s arm are a fresh set of clothes. One of Daniel’s towels is slung on his shoulder. "You okay? What happened?"

"I sent our dinner to the floor," Daniel says sheepishly. He sees Seongwu going for the broom, and he exclaims, "Hey, no! Stay put! Let me do this, alright? Please, hyung?"

Seongwu looks at him and nods. "Alright," he says, strangely compliant. 

After disposing the broken ceramic in the bin, Daniel opens the cupboard. He finds cans of soup and a pack of ramen. "Are you okay with ramen?" he says.

"Sure."

“You want to clean up first while the ramen cooks?”

“Okay.”

When the coast is clear, Daniel sighs and starts mopping the floor, willing himself to calm down. He takes a piece of sour strawberry belt from the candy jar he keeps in one of the drawers, and hums to a beat.

Daniel takes out a pot and fills it with water. After setting the pot on the stove, he fishes out the carton of eggs and the scallions in the crisper and chops them. He searches the refrigerator again for any leftover pork or chicken he could throw into the mix but finds none. When the water starts boiling, he dumps the noodles in the pot.

He’s taking another piece of strawberry belt from the jar when the pot makes a protesting noise from behind him. “Oh, shoot,” Daniel mutters, turning off the stove and removing the lid. The steam hits his face in a rush. He grabs two bowls and pours the contents.

“Smells good in here, wow.” Seongwu steps in the room, drying his hair with the towel. He’s wearing a black sweater and olive-green cotton pants, and his skin is flushed from the hot shower. He walks to Daniel’s side, barefoot.

Daniel chuckles and hides his face, feeling bashful all of a sudden. “Thanks,” he says. He cracks an egg on one of the bowls and watches the yolk mix with the broth.

“Need any help with that?”

“No, it’s fine.” Daniel’s been getting asked what he needs all day long; it puzzles him.  

He takes note of Seongwu’s unsteady gait, goes over the table and drags a chair back. "Please sit, hyung."

Seongwu snorts as he takes a seat. "Yes, yes, Kang-daegam."

Daniel grabs the tray of ice cubes from the freezer and the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge. He opens the bottom drawer with his toes and takes out two tall glasses, places the ice and pours iced tea into them.

_Kang Euigeon._

Daniel peeks over his shoulder. Seongwu is watching him, gaze intent yet tired.

“We can talk later in the morning if you want,” Daniel offers. “After eating. You should sleep, hyung.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Seongwu nods again faintly.

“If you say so.” Daniel nibbles on his lower lip. “What happened to you, though? Was I right about the bus thing?”

Seongwu lets out a small smile. “Not really. I just walked.”

“Walked?”

“Um. Yeah.” Seongwu scratches his forehead with his index finger. “I walked to get here. From the Chuncheon bus terminal when I arrived this morning. Whole twenty-one kilometers.”

Daniel closes the door of the fridge soundly. “Twenty-one—hyung, are you _serious_?”

Seongwu props his head with an arm. “Yeah. Am I not awesome or what?” he says, making a peace sign with his free hand and winking. His words slur together, belying the exhaustion he must feel.

When Daniel regained his voice, he asks, “How long did you walk?”

“Hmm… eleven hours and a few minutes.”

Daniel blinks. He needs to process that for a moment. “ _Why?_ ”

Seongwu sighs. “Because I had to.”

They stare at each other.

“What do you mean by that?” Daniel asks cautiously.

Seongwu’s voice is quiet and even when he speaks, “I had to decide on what I should do when I get here. I needed some time to think, so I walked.”

“That’s…” _So stupid._ “… so stupid.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Is this about us?” Daniel blurts.

Seongwu stills. He then chuckles, the sound shy and fragile. “It’s great to see you haven’t changed so much.” The look he gives Daniel is almost tender. “Your hair’s standing up from all sides.”

 _I missed you,_ Daniel stops himself from saying.

The ramen’s getting cold. Daniel places the two bowls and the drinks on the table.  

“How are you?” Seongwu says when Daniel passes him a pair of chopsticks.

He can sense Seongwu diverting the conversation to something more comfortable. Daniel supposes he can live with that.

“I’m doing okay,” Daniel says. “Oh, I won something last week. You know that dance-off in Chuncheon every fall?”

“Yeah.”

Daniel pushes the bowl with largest portion towards Seongwu. “I got first place.”

“That’s no surprise,” Seongwu says, clacking his chopsticks together on the table. “Thanks for the meal.” He stirs the noodles, brings them to his mouth. He wraps Daniel up in his smile. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Daniel says. “What have you been up to?”

“Ahh, nothing special. University classes are _hard_. The people are great, though! It’s fun—performing’s fun with them. You meet all kinds of people in Seoul. Oh, yeah, I ran into an idol the first week I got there—you know that guy L from _Infinite_ …”

Daniel scarfs down his noodles in four mouthfuls, watching Seongwu as he speaks. Seongwu’s hands wave about enthusiastically, painting the story into something bright and vivid in Daniel’s mind, and there’s the edge of a laugh when the older boy shifts to narrating his adventures in the city. The bags under his eyes are darker, but there’s a new flush to his cheeks. He seems happy. He seems happy to be here, with Daniel.

Like reflex, Daniel’s lips curve upwards at the thought.

“… to go to Busan?”

Daniel inches his head closer. “Hmm?”

“Busan. You said in one of your texts,” Seongwu says. “Why’d you pick a university in Busan?”

“Um,” Daniel replies. “I—uh, I got a recommendation there.”

Seongwu’s grin is a quick flash of white. “Holy shit, you have? That’s _amazing_!”

“Crazy,” Daniel concurs, a burst of warmth coursing through him. He laughs, although nothing calls for such an action. He feels that something bogging down on his shoulders lifting. He feels weightless.

Daniel laughs again. He’s well beyond using words in showing how happy and relieved he is.

 _I missed you_.

“As expected of Jeol-gil’s Kang Daniel-ssi.” Seongwu makes all sorts of trumpet noises. “Your folks okay with you going so far?”

“My mom grew up in Busan, so she’s more than okay with it when I told her.”

“That’s great, then. You should take me around Busan someday once you start going there.”

Without thinking, Daniel says, “Are you making me promise, Seongwu hyung?”

Seongwu stiffens visibly. The carefree mood dampens.

“I guess I am,” Seongwu says. He pushes his empty bowl aside.

“Then I promise,” Daniel whispers. “How about you?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you take me around Seoul someday?”

Seongwu takes a measured breath. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Really?”

Seongwu glances away, and instinctively, Daniel knows what his next words will be. “I said so earlier. That I wanted to tell you something.”

Daniel clears his throat. “About us?” he says warily.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Seongwu closes his eyes briefly, perhaps going over the things he wants to say in his mind, before opening them and staring straight at Daniel. “You said some things, back in December of last year,” he starts quietly.

Daniel nods. The weight on his shoulders comes back.

It’s quiet for a moment.

Then, Seongwu begins again, “I’ve been thinking about it. Ever since that day, it was…”

A pause. Then a heavy, tired sigh.

“Daniel, I’m really sorry for—"

“No, wait,” Daniel says. “Stop—what are you doing right now? Shit. Don’t… don’t say that!”

Seongwu looks at him helplessly. “It’s my fault that you—”

“What are you talking about?” Daniel exclaims, almost shouts. “It’s not your fault that I—that I was… What I told you isn’t something you should be sorry for.”

An apology’s the last thing Daniel wants to hear. He doesn’t think it was anyone’s fault that it turned out this way. Besides, ten months is a long time, enough for Daniel to grow resigned to the fact that the things he wants and the things he can have are not one and the same.

He’s in love with his childhood friend, and that’s all there is to it. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t make it go away. Perhaps that’s just how it is, and after months of hurting, Daniel’s okay with it now.

“Before you say anything,” Daniel says when he sees Seongwu starting to speak again. “I just want you to know that I—”

_There’s me. There’s always me. I told you before..._

Daniel closes his eyes tightly. “I love you. I really do. You know? It—it hasn’t changed, and I don’t think it will anytime soon. If you don’t feel about me that way…” He inhales, palms his face roughly, before opening his eyes again. “You don’t have to tell me. I really don’t want to hear it. Please don’t say anything. Just… Can we just be friends again?”

“Friends,” Seongwu says in a whisper.

“What I want the most,” Daniel says carefully, earnestly. “Is for us to be happy together. Always. If all we can be is friends, then I’m… I’m okay with that.”

He can learn to be.

Seongwu takes a long time to speak again. “You’re such a…” He stops at that. Daniel waits for him again, heart in his throat, and Seongwu continues, “When I talk, please don’t interrupt me. Alright? I really need to tell you something.”

Daniel gulps. “Okay.”

“You want us to be friends.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I don’t… I don’t want that.”

“What?” Daniel says, breathless, as he lets that sink in.

“I came home wanting to ask you of something, but I wasn’t sure what it was.” Seongwu shields his eyes from Daniel with his hand. “I took my time coming here so I could think about it… I wanted to be sure… Being friends. It’s not what I want anymore. It’s not enough for me.”

Daniel stands up from his seat.

“I didn’t want you to be the person I want the most,” Seongwu says softly. “Because I knew it would hurt. So, I lied to you before I left, because I wanted to change things. But the truth is… I’ve loved you since I was in second year of high school. I tried not to be, but it hasn’t changed.”

_I tried not to be._

Daniel registers the way Seongwu tells him this, like it’s something he never wanted to tell him, too huge and too scary to say out loud. Perhaps it’s something he could only acknowledge at the dead of the night, when everyone’s asleep, with no one to listen to him confess to the air a secret he’s held for so long. 

Daniel was exactly like that.

_It hasn’t changed._

A burden. A bitter truth. Something Seongwu never asked for, feelings he never wanted.

But Daniel _wants_.

He thinks about Seoul and Busan, the daunting distance, and decides that it can’t hold a candle to how much he wants and cares.

He thinks about how Seongwu must’ve decided it didn’t matter to him either.

All sensation in his legs comes back in full force.

It takes only three strides—Daniel is at Seongwu’s side in an instant. In response, Seongwu stands up and faces him.

“This time,” Daniel says, eyes boring into Seongwu’s. “You’re telling the truth?”

Seongwu says, with a hint of exasperation, “I’m not joking. This isn’t something I’d even joke about—"

“I love you,” Daniel says fiercely. He takes Seongwu’s hand in his.

Seongwu swallows. “I love you, too,” he replies. “And it’s the truth.”

Daniel’s face burns. “I missed you,” he then says, the words tumbling out so fast and he can’t seem to stop.

Seongwu lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, I missed you, too,” he says.

They stay silent as they take everything in, their breathing shallow and hushed. Seongwu stares at their intertwined hands. Daniel’s heart beats so hard on his palm, and he’s sure Seongwu can feel it.

“So, what do we do now?” Seongwu says quietly. “I don’t… I don’t know where to start.”

 _We,_ Daniel thinks, mind soaring. "We can think of something," he says, placing every conviction he has on the first word. As long as they’re together, Daniel knows they can do anything.

He moves closer. “Won’t you stay the night?”

“I don’t know. My sister says she baked me cookies.”

“Oh. Huh. Maybe I should drop by to your house, then.”

Seongwu laughs, the sound soft and light and almost giddy, and Daniel leans his forehead on Seongwu’s, just so he can hear it better.

Daniel places a gentle hand on Seongwu’s neck before he lets it wander to cradle Seongwu’s face. Under his touch, Seongwu’s cheek warms. Daniel laughs this time, and he lets himself marvel at how he’ll be allowed to do this from now on.

Seongwu inches his face away and presses his finger on the side of Daniel’s mouth. “I don’t know if you’re laughing at me or at yourself,” he says.

“Both.” Daniel grins. “I don’t know why, though.”

Seongwu scoffs; it comes out fond. “Whatever makes you happy.” His eyes glimmer, brighter than Daniel’s ever seen.

Daniel thinks Seongwu is about to kiss him, but something passes over the older boy’s face. He says, “If, you know, I call you Euigeon from time to time… would that be bad?”

Daniel’s pulse races, then quiets. “Of course not. Whatever you like.”

Seongwu nods, satisfied. “Alright.”

“Can I kiss you?” Daniel asks. He pauses, then adds, “On the forehead, maybe?”

It’s a start.

Seongwu reddens. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles. “Why not?”

Daniel laughs again, endeared. He pulls Seongwu’s bangs away, and he takes another moment to wonder at this new distance between them, at how they got to where they are.

Twenty-one kilometers might not seem so far, but for Seongwu, it must have equaled to crossing oceans. Daniel’s knees weaken at the thought of it, and he’s looking forward to tomorrows more than he thinks he’s ever had. They’re here now, and there’s no going back.

He’ll take care of this love with everything he has. He makes himself promise.

Daniel presses his lips on the spot he’s always dreamt of kissing.   

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It’s starting, it’s starting.”

Daniel blows a raspberry, shakes his arms and thumps his chest with his fist a few times. It’s not the most nervous he’s felt before a show, but it’s quite close. Before going backstage, he saw the amount of people that came for the festival showing. The size of the audience doubled from last year, it seems. Some of them looked like tourists.

It’s been hard managing club activities and preparing for the university exams. Some of the third years have left the club when spring ended; Daniel supposed he wouldn’t exactly lose anything if he stayed active until he graduates. Performing with the club members' what got him the recommendation, after all, and he thinks dancing with them for the last time is a good way of giving back.

The results of the CSAT hasn't come out yet, but Daniel's confident he did well enough to get into Dongeui University. Now, he just has to worry making this the best performance of his high school career.

A girl Daniel recognizes he shared the same homeroom with during his second-year bows at him as she passes. She pumps her fists. "Fighting, Daniel-ssi!" she enthuses.

Daniel smiles at her. "Thank you," he says as she leaves.

“Dude.” Jinwoo, the club president and Daniel’s closest friend in Street, jostles him. “It's your guy crush.”

"What?"

Jinwoo drags him by the arm. They peek behind the plywood walls, and he points at somewhere in the third row. “It's Seongwu sunbae,” Jinwoo says. “He came home to see you, didn't he?”

Like clockwork, Seongwu turns to his right and easily spots them. Seongwu waves at him.

Daniel waves back, heart fluttering. Embarrassed at himself, he covers his mouth with his hand. "He came home to see a lot of people," he says.

Jinwoo snorts. “Well, whatever the reason, he’s here now.” He slaps Daniel’s back hard. “Let’s give him a good show, yeah?”

Daniel presses his fist on Jinwoo’s shoulder, smiling broadly as they retreat backstage. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

“The Kendo Club’s finished with their demo!” one of the stage managers yells. “Street, you’re on at two!”

Jinwoo claps thrice. “Line up, minions!” he tells the underclassmen.

Daniel puts on his denim jacket and adjusts his snapback. He takes his spot at the center. As they walk out to the stage, an inexplicable calm washes over him.

It does look like a lot of people turned up to watch this year. He spots Jihoon in the crowd with his mom, giving Daniel a tiny wave. Daniel grins toothily at him.

Hyeja and the other ladies are at the very back row, their figures hazy to Daniel without his glasses on. His mom is probably with them in a wheelchair; Daniel can’t see her with the rest of the crowd on their feet, but he knows that she’s watching.  

His eyes trail back to where Seongwu and his grandfather are standing. Seongwu beams and gives him a thumbs-up.

Daniel feels his joints loosen, his skin warm. He’s ready.

“Let’s go,” Jinwoo says, and the music starts.

Daniel steps into the spotlight.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is, firstly, for s. her enthusiasm was infectious, and i never would've started writing for this fandom and pairing if it really weren't for her. thanks so much for your never-ending encouragement! i truly would be lost without you. to c, k, and j, thank you so much for welcoming me into the fandom with such warmth and support! you guys always made things in this fandom so fun to be part of!
> 
> to my very awesome betas: you are nothing short of amazing, and for you guys i'll always be grateful! without you to make up for the skills i lack, this fic would've never seen the light of day. thank you! <3


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